We shall shortly see who are the steadfast.
True hearts shall be identified from false:
Those unafraid of darkness now descending
will witness my star fade to feathered ash.
I wonder who, as I spin – a crazed compass –
remains there, sturdy, unafraid of gloom.
I’ll warrant most have fled back to the tinsel,
the glitter and the falseness we are fed.
But I now greet oblivion unembellished;
honesty has slain the froth of wish.
And dimly down the unlit endless tunnel
flee flapping cloaks; the faithless disappear.
It is to be expected; only natural.
Who wilfully accompanies a corpse?
But grateful would I be
if one would stand by me
to witness my dead electricity.
© 2013 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
Standing, finally, alone, facing one’ mortality unafraid.