Nympholept

After the summer dies the swan

It’s something everyone insists upon

Though she was faithful to the end:

Still too exhausted for a final song
We know the trick God never learned:

Could be he suffers with the rest of us

Who have the faces we have earned

God has his bad days like the best of usAll of the life within

All of our slight designs

Will come to this

Morbidity

As you will see…

You will not find here what you seek –

Bewildered by the thing you cannot know

Pale nympholept, you must accept

You made it soThese unremarkable delights

The fickle wind that moves the clouds around

All leave me witless in the sun

Too much for you or really anyoneHere on the razor’s edge

Here as the crowds arrive

The benefit

Of all of it

You can decideYou will not find here what you seek

And lost amid the consequence of time

Pale nympholept

You must expect

This cruel declineThey are not long those vivid days

Those days of rage and laughter

The soul is not consoled:

The pain remains

…and what comes after this?

They are not long those fleeting hours

Those hours of consolation

The heart resigned

Still misaligned

And everything will end like thisAfter the summer dies the swan

Maybe the very last phenonemon

That serves to simulate the world

A spectacle you can rely uponAll of the life within

All of our slight designs

Will come to this

Morbidity

As you will see…You will not find here what you seek –

Bewildered by the thing you cannot know

Pale nympholept, you must accept

You made it so