We danced then through mahogany rooms and mirrored halls Above the placid light of the low moon in summer solstice Immortal, brilliant, young and shining, sure beyond certainty Of the rising sun, the new day, another moment, another life. Intentions fade. Like erosion on a stone, choices became residue, Rinsed away in the oblivion of small concessions to age The way forward canalized, narrowed and deepened, Grown damp, murky, fetid, foreboding. What rancid slack-jawed beast is this now, slithering out From the darkness, bathed and swaddled in evil Simmered in a stew of afflictions and resentments Foul claws grasping for a foothold in history? It is ancestral, the devil we denied, resurrected From festering wounds and forgotten promises Lost in our pursuit of meaning, hidden in a maze Of old regrets and unintended consequences. What once was purpose ends in perturbation Stone crushing bone, raw agony as the boulder slips his grasp And rolls right over him, in accordance with design and habit Sisyphus moans and shivers in his sleep, fevered dreams Of an eternity foretold, spiraling through the entropy of time.
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