Looking out

Looking Out

Looking out in that moment, he saw only fragments
Of unfulfilled dreams, of once-idealistic intentions
That came as a flow, once rushing, then slowed,
Pooling of thoughts into clever compartments
To ultimate standstill, where once was a channel
Now only a trench, still brimming yet stagnant
Subjected now to the ever-encroaching of entropy
Closing on sides that were open, now crusted with silt
The layers of guilt and of underachievement
Feeding the bottomless pit of resentment
Grains of a purpose, coagulating
Adding, fleck by fleck, to strata of sediment
So, as below, while yet still on the surface
Beneath lie the wrecked vessels of ideas
Poking occasional masts through the ether
Each in its way, establishing naught
But a waymarker showing that life is short
And the path to achievement edges still shorter
The window is closing, just as it ought.