The Toll

Cataracts are stars dying from age

Far-flung in misty skies

Circling around in reefs of solitude

And quiet from the silent echo

And it is the quiet, quiet, silent nothing

To have words dissipate like a thin breeze

Feelings to burn numb, curling for warmth

Float on winged light to peer through the veil

To be left alone and beg forgiveness

From withering beasts that drink from the well

Tears, carved from heart’s stone

Useless payment to the debt collector

To exchange diamonds like cards

Shifted into shades of red and black

Stand-ins for what once stood in

Ice rivers collecting tolls of gold

Age is forever the same in death

For it distinguishes not 

From wilted roses culling the edge of winter

Or the daisy blushed with spring

We are all called back

To disappear behind the curtains of life

To bow beneath waves of consciousness,

Answering to the far beyond

To pay the toll for life’s bitter-sweet

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