Death Dreaming

Two and a half score years
into my allotted span.
Rootless, restless,
loosed too soon or too late
to re-invent a self.

Lost to love,
the blood still sings to beauty,
the heart still stalks
the ever elusive dream
of longed for unity.

Time to lose
the last tattered shreds
of a malfeasant past,
the drowned dreams of
an empty future.

To be free at last
of this incessant self.