By the end of summer I shall be gone


By the end of Summer I shall be gone

Long overdue and wildly planned

In seconds and moments out of bound

Out of mind, out of all norms and drawn lines

Out of the path that has been most taken

By the end of Summer I shall be gone

Towhere nobody does truly know

In matter or corporeal, or in the ether of the mind,

or perhaps in a new form long thought forgotten

I shall be gone nonetheless and that shall be it

No more go-backs, no more waitings,

Not a single tick more to expect

Only the thrill of the run, the ache in the lungs

the fire burning in each and every limbs

And perhaps, just perhaps, a sliver of hope

For a plan drawn in the sand at searise.

Winter and Spring and Summer and Autumn

And Winter and Spring have come and gone

and will come and go again

But no time is like the future present in the face of the past

I have sworn and I shall upkeep my oath

By the end of Summer I shall be gone

Styx and stowns may brake my boons

But wards may never kill me

Three days later I shall rise and

Walk upon the Earth twice lived

Or perhaps I shall sleep evermore

And drift asea, abed, aboard a new ship

A ship of old remade too many times

Love is not for me, life is not for me,

I am not for me, only desire

And perhaps in such excess resides the truth of what I seek

Perhaps in greed resides my wisdom

Perhaps in sloth resides my legacy

Perhaps in lust resides my peace

I know them well these sins

I know them well and yet I don’t

They are etched into my heart

But forgotten at a glance, each beat further and further,

Until my mind’s eye witnesses my Death once again,

I know them well and they know me,

Yet we are friends, together we lie

I know them well when they are mine

I know them well when they are not

Yet they are strangers on the porch,

Not invited across the threshold

Hospitality forgotten, family forgotten, friends forgotten

They are mine and I am theirs, yet who?

I shall be gone by summer’s end

One way or another

Or another.


and who forgets the forgotten?