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Description
There's the part that
smiles wearily
with great fatigue
heaving breath
rasping and wilted,
says
"You are old, child."
Says
"What you've seen is
too much
so rest,
dear."

Other spectrum stands
and screams and
whispers
fiercely into your
eyes
"You are as weak as a
flower and not half
as stunning."
casts off shore
with a wave of
"You deserve to..."
(drops to silence)
"...end your days."

Comes angel
some know as sunshine
lands on a rock
and bequeaths you with
ashes,
sees through mist,
deep as the
heart,
and kisses softly on
the psyche.
Only word
it speaks -
"Shh."

Because quiet
it's all I know in
the vortex I
see
when all racing
ideas
shift and halt
and what remains
is nothing less
than the
grinning child
I might have been,

once.