What measure
What manner
What's the next turn
And what role do I play?
My empty questions
Roll around the hall
Grey marbles pillars
Faded frescos
Worn smooth statues
Say nothing to address
My wayward questions
Faded eyes look on
At my whisper thin existence
And wonder at my impermanence
Suffering and insubstantiality
With questions of their own
They assail my weak will
Turn in, turn in
Suffer not
Allow yourself to fade
By giving away bits of you
The years wear you thin
Bleach your colors
And work little cracks
Through your foundation
Enough! Enough!
I weep
Tears join the flood at my feet
Standing in my own grotto
My indecision has crystallized me
Salt pillar now turning to stone
I too late realize
What I've become