trapped

Trapped in a fantasy
with nowhere to turn
haunted by apostasy
and doomed to burn

in a flame, swept by a swell
of longing and despair
leave behind an empty shell
a sordid, ghostly sight to bear

Its hard to conceive
that a man could believe
with such strange, fearful conviction
caught in spells of his own deception

that were spun under the bright morning sun
in solitary flights at glorious heights
to live more intensely and to die more immensely
than the others around him, with their lives so dim

The road to dusk is long and rough
and youth is still near enough
to behold and embrace life
with all its joys and strife

so make good of what remains
in truth, wit and wisdom
go love and be loved, free from feigns,
fear, madness and boredom

to act at will and with deep faith
in the meaning of your imprint
of what remains, let it become no wraith
your body of work survive in print.