Skepticism - Monumentary

I am here
I hear your voices
Yet you look through me
Now my time has come

Easily You lift me
Gently swinging
You carry me
Smooth quiet movement
Like a boat downstream
No time for speeches
There is music
First quiet
Growing louder
With the music
You set me down
Sound of the sand
Like summer rain
On a tin roof
With the sand
The music becomes distant
And almost to soon
There is only silence

Wide was the road - destination for a hope
Straight was the road - source for a disbelief
Light was the road - enough not to proceed
Destination will be unclear
For the journey I will not be known
It will not be all pleasant
Years on the road
Enough to prove wrong
I could stop or turn back
But I will not
The end may be close
Still distant the goal
Am I past the ordeal
Have I lost a soul
On it goes
For me is the road
Time will cease to matter
Past will mean nothing
Destiantion will remain unclear
So bright one will be blind
I do not see the end
I see the road
Years on the road
Enough to prove wrong

I could stop or turn back
But I will not
The end may be close
Still distant the goalAm I past the ordeal
Have I lost a soul
On it goes
For me is the road
Wide is the road - destination for a hope
Straight is the road - source for a disbelief
Light is the road - enough not to proceed
Destination will stay unclear
For the journey I will not be known

Back at my worn out desk
Where former triumphs were written
Where former losses were forgotten
Where now lies a void
Light glimmering through the curtains
Sun has just risen
Dust motes dancing slowly in the light
Sun needs to rise
How else she could fall
Ink on the paper in scruffy lines
Markings leading nowhere
I can hear
The roots of the trees
Growing
Deep under
My feet
I can feel
The sky falling
Down from
Where it
Used to be

I can see
The stars becoming
Dim
And the darkness
Of the sky

Should I merge
These lines
Or just
Let them die
I have departed and I will not return
Yet to proceed is not to arrive
To reach out is not to achieve
Nearly there is not complete

Not the journey that matters
Nor the destination
Not close, not near, not becoming
Just steps or parts incomplete

Incomplete is a form of loss
Incomplete is a form of pain
Incomplete is an ordeal

Shall I proceed
The March Incomplete

Suddenly I am awake
The smooth grey stripe
The shaded blue mist
In silent pleasant slumber

One sweet the second bitter
Once surfaced now falling deeper
Twice the weight to drag one further

Suddenly I am awake and the mist is gone
Everything pleasant has turned dark
What were clouds are now steel and rock
The grey stripe will point the way
The thin gate will lead you in

Suddenly I am awake and the air is bitter
Everything dark has turned light
What were steel and rock are now gone

How come are You here
Two decades since nightfall
The night was to be forever
The dark was said to last
The wine of departure
A potion bitter at first
Shall one leave a mark
Or be a mark oneself
to depart is to return
to leave is to stay it is said
to decide is to hesitate
next decade will wait for me

A new night will fall like a backward dawn
A new dark will rise like an inverted sun

Yet one will not depart
How come am I here
Ten years after midnight
The night was said to be forever
The dark was said to last
The wine of departure
A potion sweet with time
Shall one leave a mark
Or be a mark oneself
to depart is to return
to leave is to stay it is said
to decide is to hesitate
next decade will wait for me

I will be here then
and everthing will be true

I look at you
As you push through the mist
Drive apart the herd
Separate the layers

I look at you
As you summon the dark
Gather the light
Stand tall as a statue

I look at you
As you wade through the deep
Thought in each move
Feel in each turn

I look at you
As you proceed with others
The same as before
And yet agian unknown

I look at you
For the last time
Piece for piece
We are biw there