I haven’t written in ages

The words don’t seem to come

The ink has dried in my absence

Leaving blank, the pages of my soul

Night has blinded my hope

Lingering doubts

In corruption’s wake

I sit, illuminated

Bathed in the soft glow of procrastination

Each hour wasted,

Lost in transient space

Time, passes harshly

Jagged pieces crystallize

Piercing the soft shrouds of recollection

Draining memories, falling lightly upon the desk

I raise my fingers

Individual vessels, carrying the ideas of generations

Expressions

Divergent ideologies

Separate, but one

Voices echo in my ears

Etching drafts of communication

Communing in ancient union

Receiving and rejecting

The projections of life

Perceptions

Captured interpretations

Blurred individualism

Overriding basic humanity

Forgetting ourselves

Slipping into roles

Changing our dreams

Waking to truth

Shades of lessons

Remaining in the distance

Sleep fades…