Poetry-Thing Thursday: Fade In

Fade In

 

Fade in.

We hear:

A pen scratching,

Shouts in the distance.

A shot.

Death.

 

Cold, dark, and blue,

The world turns on you,

and will kill you too.

 

I have seen in many ways,

the lives of man condemned.

And I have had many days,

with which I must contend.

 

We can see the mind of God

– What a helpless contraption.

Souls of queens, and kings, and men

– Another mindless abstraction

The hearts of martyrs, saints, and kin,

– but not into ourselves, or not in good fashion.

 

And if we live well what do we win?

Yet another, fruitless life,

Evermore fading in.

Is it more beauty than hatred or sin,

to be alone in our strife,

never more to fade in?