distant images of a concourse going away no.1

insidious dreams beneath, the whole world out of reach… distant images of a concourse going away… fingertips losing touch as the dust sweeps up the moment to be lost and forgotten; or held endlessly dear…

the insurmountable depths of an instant, when all is cast away, deep into long doubt and regret… all that is fleeting and precious, all that will be gone… dreams of the undoing coming on…

slow moaning drones, building their steady rising… all is hurled headlong into the storm, the turmoil, the affray; endless nights of disarray… harrowing knowing on the brink…

the heart pounding, roaring with the cruel agony of ‘alive’ …let the fear creep in, let the waves of anxious nervous energy cloud the rationale; staggering  backwards into the bear-trap…

the collapsing aperture going away. the solemn swansong a funereal drone sounding out long over a mist-shrouded frozen dream… lungs, heart, brain of the machine…

see the snapshot glimpses of a bitter dawn, reflections in the shimmering shards of the newly broken…  sorrow slowly coming on… the long trawl into a murky grey… ‘let it not end this way…’

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