The last page

Listening to pieces of ripped music
following the names calling some
rolling on the back bench
things past us above us
drawing pictures of all that we saw
or wanted to
coarse and pouring patches of sun
believing in all that made sense
and more in what did not
of wet stars
of no moon
no morning to follow
no night good enough to die
school, college
past two decades
am still cribbing
about the lack of things
about the existence of some
lying here on my will
thinking I will
flipping through
the diaries of invisible monsters
One day, ah one day
Will I hear the god's song
Will I feel the angel's sigh
Will I know when the candle melts
When the last drop of wax
Falls into the infinite unknown
We did not know it then
I do not know it now
My history
seems of things which were too fragile
to survive me
to survive time
Never to be relived again
Not in a child's smile
Not in a fireflies lumination
Not in a pupae bursting to freedom
Not in a snake's hiss
Not in my life