Shadow of an ancient youth

The shadow of an ancient youth
is chasing me
and as I hide away form death
behind the masque of years
whose secrets are yet untold,
I all human guilt
(corruption of the perfect mind
that seeks its former self,
expressed by faded oils,
insufficient words
and distorted harmony)
seem to bare.

Reflected in a rippled pool
I see of life
the truth imagination blots
out from my ageing eyes,
imitating selfish pride
whose forgotten cause
lives on within this foolish race
unknown to those most wise,
but suspected by fools
and known certainly
to me alone now living
and those dead.

Here sees my soul eternity
and are my thoughts
encompassed all, within a word
that’s inexpressible
and human comprehension
fails so utterly
that none may learn my flawless truth,
save he should also die
and run away from phantom fools
until all is still,
nothing more remaining on Earth,
life is death.

Where now is the grand finale?
Locked still am I
within the slow movement of life
and hope will surely die
as the chords slowly unfold
choking, expansive,
around the solitary mind
that seeks to understand
the intention of he
whose pen created
this vast unknown, unfinished
symphony.