Facets Of Factual Reality Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

All together, peace fulfills an ancient ritual, woven
beautifully into every facet of life.
Securing the finest points of truth, fitting them into
caskets made of wood, allowing eternity to leave them
by the wayside to eventually die and become once again
a part of the parcel of life.
Awakening innermost thoughts, filing them as quickly as
they pop up, not wanting to see the truth of the way we
are.
Sadly left alone, no longer a being, salted tears fall
and disappear, no longer pointing the way through life.
Kneeling instead, at the gravestones of impending death.
Tranquilly unknowing, hiding deeply in chests of untold
treasure, never seeing the light of day or genius.
Seeking no more, the answers of reason, standing still,
moving slowly forward on death's straightforward
escalator, going neither up nor down.
Forgetting all moments which have preceded this moment
of time, continuing to live, not knowing how to respond
from day to day.
A repertoire of factual reality ends today in the cellar
of decay, no light falling within to light the way.
All doors forever locked and closed to destiny.