Too Late For Love A lone cricket sings from the bushes under the cold October moonlight. He came too late, his song goes answered by none. And it won't be long before he is dead, killed in the approaching frosts of Autumn Too late, and he knows it; silence resumes here within the somber light
Timeless, lost in a silver song, spun ember-legged and melodic under a crisp fallen foliage.... an irreplaceable moment. ~~*
Too Late The beginning started during the coming of an end While summer was gently dying in agony and then in peace While our recent pasts were soon to lay down on their deathbed While September was bringing a yellow, oldish hue to the calendar page While heroes about to die all too soon were crying angrily their rage September was the beginning, and in September came the end One year later, the same month called September changes visibly And it brings along so many deaths, but only too few regrettable Deaths and ends and new beginnings Deaths of heroes, communication, presence, feelings, past perceptions of the world Some memories will hopefully also die Those past discussions and happenings and everything we shall deny For it is too late now, we’re advancing through the mid of red October No words are spoken, no emotions are felt, nothing is admitted to our own selves Everything is cold and frozen, it’s too cold to get to reach the memories
Utter darkness is banished by a single ray of light, look to the light of your essence, fuel the fire of your spirit, rise above circumstances and shout... POWER TO THE PEOPLE!!! United we may stand and wrest our destinies from the forces that would doom us. We must rise again and stand, we must absolutely for, tis not only to stop some illegal war in a far off land but to prevent the disappearance of the human race from the universe, before it ever actually became "human". Know this; there is always time for love, and even one moment of the experience of "Love", is worth a lifetime. To truly love, is to be truly human, and this "holy grail" of experience is well worth any effort to achieve it. Excellent poem Trippin, descriptive of a reality that needs be a changin. sine cera
