Lady Grey

She stood there in silence, with calm hands
Clenched, unclenched, wrapped around a thin scarf
Words stutter and slip out,
Falling at her feet in such a pathetic pile

She’s been here before, we all have
Yet we don’t recognise a single thing
Language and lexis, such sweet litanies
Fail to describe failure and hope with any degree of accuracy

She holds up a mirror to our suffering
A gaunt, macabre dream shuffles across the glass
Yet even nightmares take imagination and
We’re all out of ideas

We’re in this emptiness, this void
Atheist and without a prayer,
Though not without a hope
Bleak, grey and strung out

If you can go your whole life
Without having one original thought
Then why live or think at all
But how would we know

So keep dreaming, keep thinking
Keep on breathing, hoping
The scarf slips from her withered fingers
A light lilac token, a breath from beyond

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