We...

They have moved in.
They have taken up residence for good.
The voices I mean
And the shadows.
Oh! Yes! and the wool,
The heavy wool that weighs down
My thoughts,
Dulls my joy.
Unwanted lodgers in the house of the head.

Whisperings in walls
Of mortality,
Fatal; feelings
Of fragility,
Tangible, terrible;
Pervasive, invasive.

Dark shadows of
Degenerative diseases
Stalk insidious
The bare corridors
Of my meagre resources.

A weak sun appears
Then fades
Behind a cloud of knowing,
All too well.

Voices clamouring
In the night of my days.
Leaving no room,
Allowing no repose.

Soldiering on,
I go,
Heaving a heavy pack
Full of faint hope fading
And the trembling of trepidation.

When you come...

We will be waiting.