Reflection of the Ouroboros

Each sunrise creates a relic, a discarded yesterday.
The look in their eyes is not indicative of respect,
compassion - no, not even pity. It is one of
bold, arrogant youth that holds few yesterdays
and does not count tomorrows in increments of years.

Alone has never been so alone and I understand
why she settles for less than best because
loneliness is a sadness that fills the heart,
the bones, every sinew and tendon becomes empty.

Fear of being alone is a disease that consumes
but being alone is a dark void unfulfilled.
The only thing worse is to see a reflection of
your own loneliness in their uncaring eyes
and to know that it does not matter to anyone but you.

It is your heart that aches beneath the sun, moon and stars.
You wonder why this fate has become yours - why
this robe wears you like a straight jacket
refusing to let you go, to let you slide backward
into the comfort of yesterday, into the soothing arms of love.

But unlike her you cannot settle for less yet
you long for something more...something more.
You know what they think of you, how they feel
and you wish you could strip off the aging flesh
for just one moment to reveal the vibrant being
you really are beneath the withering images of time.

But time is a mirror, you see and someday it will reflect
their own sad loneliness in new eyes
for time is also a repetitive cycle -
a circular madness of changing seasons,
a globe of yesterdays and tomorrows
that hinges upon a seesaw of natural laws
that are understood yet mysterious.

Life, age, death, time
folding in upon itself
devouring and giving birth -
the ouroboros
that brings all to full circle.