An Old Man Awake In His Own Death
This is the place that was promised
when I went to sleep,
taken from me when I woke.
This is the place unknown to anyone,
where names of ships and stars
drift out of reach.
The mountains are not mountains any more;
the sun is not the sun.
One tends to forget how it was;
I see myself, I see
the shore of darkness on my brow.
Once I was whole, once I was young...
As if it mattered now
and you could hear me
and the weather of this place would ever cease.
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