The Elven Procession Smiling By...

Clouded waters of ancient ages,
Dreams of old seep through genetic lines,
The mysteries of void and life
Swirling in constant chaotic fury.

Gray mists encompasses all, the wreath
Of vision sight. What illusions lie in vacuum
Colorless gray?

I stand alone and apart from the empty call of void,
And before me the smiling sincerity procession
Shuffles by.
Each fiber, grain, and wrinkle apparent,
A smile on each passer-by, their souls
Achieved of sylvan glory,
Fey-like shimmer about their golden brow.

What guide leads these passionate people,
To what fate does their path take them?
The line of souls, all captured in their
Purest state of human existence, follow step
In eerie silent standing, teeth reflecting from a
Vacant sun, or inner perfection?

And there I realize, I’m alone,
Not in step to the unseen drummer,
The bugle did not blow for me,
These captured bodies from their Life’s
Pinnacle have all risen one day,
Heard the horn, and rose from time
Walked through the portal that I forgot,
And followed step, with blissful knowledge
That their time had come,
Waiting had been achieved,
And life, happiness eternal was through
This void, of gray-spun tapestry.

Tears are the only sounds, sobs of
Regret? Doubt? Uncertainty?
All resounding with each falling
Salted water.
The utter magnitude that I had stuffed
My ears with so much downward spiral
As time in life spun quickly by.

I’m no perfection, no achievement of
Human character, and crumpled on the
Ditch of this Rapture March I realize;
I’m all alone, sounding sobs, next to a silent
Journey to Eternity of happiness,
All I can feel is sadness…