Extinguished

I have ran a marathon,

but what is that now?

once,

the old dog down the street

humped for two days straight,

does that make him

any less decrepit or wasted?

life does not stand still,

that is not the way of things,

vision is tomorrows memories,

as reality is lost

on the cutting room floor;

we spend our lives waiting

for yesterday’s dreams;

standing here today,

poised on the verge of immortal madness,

such strange new beasts these are,

ready to devour the earth,

the moon,

the stars;

the light of the world has gone out,

leaving it cold and dark.

.

.