Everlasting

I stand on the brink.
Grey to my right, life to my left.
Peripherals see buildings and trees,
Yet both are now filled with sadness.
And, in the coming dark,
There will be both, but we will have neither.
Or perhaps they will have it.
They can have it.
For I wanted little, and it has decayed,
Too much so that its brittle frame would crumble,
From my infant self’s gaze.

We were told, but have forgotten.
The endless waves of sand,
Offer only neutrality.
Before birth, and in death,
We are neutral.
In life,
We can be anything but.

I wonder if they can see them?
My dark eyes, not my brown ones.
Has my mask slipped, or did I ever wear one?
I am truth,
And I hide in plain sight.
But I am not invisible, I have given you my name. 

If I were he who came before me,
Courage and honour,
Would rest in the foreground, not the back.

Who Will take up this seat in the Timeless Halls?
There is only Hephaestus.
Pandora’s Box is all that remains,
To feed the million mouths that have not teeth.

I am a religious fanatic.
I am an atheist.
I am Bernardo Vittone.
I am Alaric.
I am perfection.
I am the damaged one.
I am utterly human,
And I was created by you.

Now, we can only stare down into reflections,
Of times past that never existed.
And except neutrality,
As too much water,
Slips through the cracks between our fingers.