After all that time
There is a sense of triteness in the air,
With no care for observation
Beyond the norm;
No desire for dreams to storm
Sombre sleep. No consolation
Needed for inaction,
No satisfaction sought because
None desired, beyond the satisfactory.
No temptation tried or if tasted
No tainted with trying
Beyond the trite.
After all that time
There is a sense of death in the air.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
After all that time
There is a sense of triteness in the air,
With no care for observation
Beyond the norm;
No desire for dreams to storm
Sombre sleep. No consolation
Needed for inaction,
No satisfaction sought because
None desired, beyond the satisfactory.
No temptation tried or if tasted
No tainted with trying
Beyond the trite.
After all that time
There is a sense of death in the air.
AN OLD POEM CIRCA 1987.
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