Dreamscapes

The sun sets,

life leaks away

and the reaper’s

silver scythe is

heralded in silver hair.

 

Time watches

from a distance,

its steady gaze

holding your eyes

as it keeps pace

beside you.

The dreams you pursue

grow translucent

in your hands,

and there are days you can’t be sure

if it’s them, or you,

slipping through your fingers.

It may yet be that

you are one and the same,

but one has to stay,

and it can’t be

you.