No hope.
No dignity.
No peace of mind.
Not even the slightest illusion of
them.
We are left here,
forgotten,
abandoned,
forlorn,
living on the noxious fumes
of a forgotten glory,
a
long-gone fame,
mesmerized
by the tantric hum
of the many
memories
bustling through
our junkyard brains,
inhaling
the grief-laden air
of a long,
too long,
history.
No.
Not every end signals a new
beginning.
February 1997