It’s the time when there appears

To be no future although I always

Look forward to the tomorrow and

Another tomorrow as a potent harvest

I try to push the day and another

Day and another with my strong

Imaginative images, mostly of 

My own creation and to my dismay

I am often successful

Now if I ask why I am doing

This, creating images day in and 

Day out, I get no answer. Instead, my mind 

Rapidly shows some more subtle images, 

Some fearful too. I get lost in this 

Maze of images, without stopping 

Keep searching my face and, no, no other 

Face, since all other faces that

I have seen I can recollect anytime. 

This endless exercise gives purpose to my days, 

To my nights, to my consciousness, to my

Conscience and life seem full.

I hate to live an empty life.