The One Within

Driving south for Easter, thinking about a childhood friend I no longer speak to.

I know not who I am today.
Bright-eyed curiosity faded to
suspicious cynicism somewhere along the way.
My world of sweet sunshine is now
bitter, boggy
Haunted by a spectre –
    Time.
The future’s bloated corpse lies before me,
Fetid in pale sunlight which has misplaced its heart.

Now the Sun which once inspired
hides its face in shame
cringes below the horizon, bathing dour destiny in
Red.

But my face –
    Is it red with disgraced sunlight
    Or with dreams as they bleed from my soul?

Where has the bright-eyed child gone?
Pray she dies – for her own good – before her sunlight fades
So when broken Sun filters to her grave,
No one need mourn her wasted innocence.