In These Days

The sun still blazes across the sky day by day.

And night by night, the tattered ebony blanket,

with a million illuminated holes, hangs across the sky like always.

The sun hurries for another day,

The moon tarries for another night,

And life goes on and on.

But in these days,

as the sun still blazes and the silver face silently blesses us with luminescence when the dark crawls by ,

the cock's crow sounds a decibel less,

a little more discordant.

The sunrise is no more exhilarating, no more uplifting.

The daily drone, the hustle, the bustle are dead to my ears.

The Rolling Stones, the music, the lyrics,

are dead to my soul, my heart.

And as I sit, numb to feelings, to emotions,

thoughts wander like vagabonds through the bare, parched land of my mind.

and the memories, the regrets, the sensations from all angles pour.

and wider the chasm between sanity and real, rational reasoning grows.

The times are changed.

Life's meaning has withered away.

All there is left is a sickly stalk

Surrounded by shrivelled stories

And shrivelled hopes of a brighter future.