The contrast between the golden
shine of my youth
and the blackness
of this tainted crow
perched firmly on my shoulder
can no longer be ignored.
How paradoxical
are we as breathing bodies and beating hearts,
with both light and dark sides to our stories.
Not all is lost.
Our two faces can still coincide
in a strange but imperative perfection
that never quite stays on beat
with the continuously thumping drums.
It is possible – though not likely –
that someday down this spiraled road
my crow will rise into the gleaming rays
of the flawless, twilight heavens
and the blackness will exist no more.
Or maybe the golden shine of my youth
will find its end
and the world will continue on
in this subtle present darkness.