A shut-in life,
The baffled walls whispering,
Withdrawal into our lonely,
fatigued selves.

The swift pulse of our
changing priorities;
the stoutly guarded facades falling off,
thoughts wrestling with a constant sense of uncertainty,
a faith trying to salvage
a slipping hope.

Slow acceptance of an
inherent susceptibility;
Habits learning to shatter
the mist of myths,
Dreams making peace with
an obvious yet oblivious reality;

A silent realization to relish the nanoseconds offered now
without nursing an appetite for a future unknown.

A hardship that leaves us
languishing in isolation,
but creates a new bond
with our blessings.

A cottage left languishing
looks diffidently at me with a
welcoming eye.

A carriage abandoned
lends its hesitant hand
to offer me a seat.

Breeze of a lost past
turns the page of a forgotten chapter;
Time sets the clock back
A vanished glory comes
echoing in silence.

It's a ghost city
where the dread of death
stalks the dead.  

A corpse gazes
into the mirror
to feign a state of the living.

A brutal past haunts
memory's grave;
Unfinished stories remain forsaken.

A desolate shadow
falls on an unceasing night;
the stillborn day mourns.

Cry of a vanished era
bares a collapsed glory;
Pride falls from grace.

Where is lost
the sweet silence
in the solitude we cherished;
the still truth in
the river of our reflection?

A restless echo
runs into our languid chest
and chases the content out.
A yearning resonates -- everywhere.
There's a ripple
the images come unseen
Haziness eyes
the form of our being.

Serenity compromised
Mirrors shattered
We scream at life
as the blur surfaces.

Santa won't confess,
lest it may sound blasphemous
(everything does, these days);
but he wished he could take
a long break from what he does best
or simply quit...

Santa may choose to stay mum
but deep in the recess he feels
that the world doesn't need him anymore;
Innocence has grown up too much too soon
and Love is no more a priority.

Driving his sledge, he asks himself:
is this journey worth taking at all?

This ******* of insight,
imprisons me
in a thought
that mocks the shackles

I repent for an irreversible folly, again
but its lingering unpleasantness
doesn't forgive my painful guilt.