08 November 2007

behind the partial wall

catching the gleam then thrown into the past
a cloudless day but still filled up with cold
not one thing here of all that we foretold
out with the ash all history's been cast
strange flags may fly atop the highest mast
while shiny plastic's taken for pure gold
but that's not all not one who shall grow old
can doubt that there is certainty at last
we dive through hells but never find our goal
heavens above provide us with no sign
yet faintest shadows are emblems of hope
what happens in the end is not the role
we saw ourselves in still the glass of wine
provides some compensation for the rope

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