I rest in the life of another,
in a dishonest past;
a retouched memory,
sombre, stained a rose’s hue.

Yielding and regressing,
to a former self;
with sight more tranquil,
wit breathing unspoiled,
though vision untrue,
distorted by a lens seeking solace.

I thirst for peace.
misdirected, looking behind,
pining for proof.
For a time of joy -contentedness.
For a past allowing return.

My core weeps.
Chilling tides constricting,
as i cede, bowed and concave;
my inner fire dim.

My mind’s eye wanders,
questing for a novel present.
Afar he ere lay, nestled
revelling in fantasy.
Embracing the distant present.
Sated in unrealistic hope.

Fiction his wry humoured companion,
an affront
to the abandoned truth.

Swirls in the eye’s dark:

Here we chase faith, promises, delusions,
for here lies hope.
As nothing lay before.