Off the horizon
The depth of your eyes reflect,
black of heart from years of neglect.
Pools of promise drunk and drained,
staying on despite the strain.
Lost to sight past the last post,
stolen thoughts feeding upon the host.
Empty wells where there laid all,
chin held high while forced to crawl.
Melting into the distant haze,
left to rot til the end of days.
Time taken the last Autumn breeze,
the faded color, forced to leave.
Four seasons have come and gone,
the end of winter is all but run.
Frozen in place from here to there,
What was full, now lay bare.
Repeated countless times before,
once alive, the dead keep score.
The unknown edge always near,
far from thought, held by fear.