Timeless

Darkness flows from my hands...
Weaving out before me in its inky tendrils...
The night is warm and it is mine...
Always mine...

Dreams light up the meadow...
Bright and warm, a still in time...
Time is always still now...
Poised and calm, as it winks and waits...

Oh, how the nights used to bleed...
The bleeding of the lost...
The bleeding of the lone...
The bleeding, of the unseen...

Hands press on and on...
The scene shfits, and the cast steps in...
Still the que was off...
Chiming on, despite my missing guests...

Midnight comes, and comes again...
It had to come at night...
Only night could become the dawn...
Only night could become this peace...

I yearn now to dance in this peace...
To dance once again beside this dawn...
For time is a dance...
And like the night it is now mine...

The ballroom is crowded and the chimes so loud...
But they are winding down...
Keeping time and waiting...
Waiting for the bleeding to stop...

My number finally begins and I smile...
The night is dawning and the bleeding has stilled...
Once I was frozen, always to keep this time...
Now I am alive, and always for this time to keep...

- N

P.S. This painting is "Timeless"; by Byron Coons.