THE TWELVE STATIC SEASONS

Mediocrity is would-be king and resignation is his queen
Those despots who have trumped regal joy and passion !
Eyes now sit flat - if not sunken; vacant,
Without trace of once rising beams of fulfillment

Heart cast in stone, without pump, or color or flow,
A perfect graveyard statue
Smiles turned inward, pulling the mouth closed and eyes downward

The mundane as theme, and sorrow as plot,
Pity is the courtyard jester
Excellence and spirit, out of sync,
Lost in time forever

Child submerged in water, song bird shot,
Preacher without conviction,
Thoughts and actions all in default,
Emotions and feelings evicted

Changes in seasons, do spawn layers
But all veiled or transparent
Like a circle of life made of chains:
Sunrise and sunset, no light - no warmth - no laughter