Whether my head has grown heavier,
or my knees weaker,
I don’t know.
But these days my own strength,
won’t allow a stone’s throw.
Or a stroll through the sweeter times.
When I easy breathed,
less feeble minded.
Led down darker tunnels,
now free though blinded.
By the sunlight stretching,
shining certain.
Across eyes recast,
past deserving curtains.
Past Deserving Curtains.
Dim Opus 