To end up alone in a world full of pain, where life has become just a cold dark refrain. To drift along on strange endless tracks on the maps of a mind that is fading to black. A face; a feeling that once felt so real, excitement that should have felt so full of zeal. But a memory is all; just a fading wisp, reaching out to touch frowning lips. Closing eyes on a world now so fleet, time moving faster than your tired, aching feet. The ticking-tock of the clock in the hall, whispering time at the pendulums call. A sound; a voice in a distant room, echoing close but then gone just as soon. Calling a name that’s familiar, but then long forgotten and fading again. Alone in the crowd; "May as well not be here", strangers talking that simply can't hear. Their words coming slurred from distorted lips, hurting my ears plugged with gnarled fingertips. To end up forgotten in a world full of shadows, struggling to breathe but the rivers so shallow. Washed away in the tides of an age by a current too strong to turn back the page. Find a blank sheet, and with trembling fingers grasp the pen; watch the nib as it lingers. So much to say and a future to live, why must we fade with so much still to give? A cruel callous twist in the hands of fate, the garden is fading; the path and the gate. To end up alone in a world full of pain where life has become just a cold dark refrain. Written by Darren Scanlon, 21st June 2014. Revised by Darren Scanlon 13th January 2021. ©2021 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.