Dusk :A Twilight God

Dusk

In moments such as these

I belong to none.

The floodgates have to be opened;

And I must stand by and watch.

Without a foothold on the slippery shore

I stand,

Bending low, with the reeds on the banks to catch

To retrieve what I think is wealth.

Hardly ever is anything caught.

The tremendous flow and the gorge swallow all.

This is decadence without a cadence, without a sound—

A cancelled past is not history erased;

It’s nothing but a cancelled memory from a murky scroll

Like a promise made to one’s own self

Now pushed deep down in the vaults.

The deceptive summer setting in

After the delayed monsoon departs,

Casts long shadows in the twilight-dusk—

Shadows which linger painfully long,

Longer than they should,

For they hold neither a warmth nor the chilling fear of what may come.

It’s waiting until dark.

Darkness has immense gratitude.

Its expanse has the kindness which shields from the gruesome light of the world:

The world that goes by the name “Reality”.

This darkness is wise.

It does not strive to teach.

Its parables are silent.

Its black ink knows how to spill over all the light of the human script.

I have no use for a script any way now.

Perhaps in this darkness there is a script I could never read.

Perhaps I may read the cyber-space now with a greater clarity.

And perhaps I may yet fail to read the word in the sky and upon the sea.

It’s time to acknowledge the dark

Awesome in magnitude,

Submerged in sad delight

Of the final defeat

Faced with the God I can no longer fight.

Who knows; perhaps in this darkness, hides the light

And the edge of the road that was meant to be travelled and seen

By my imperfect human eye.

Image : Tanya Dimitrova