Burning Embers

The age rat gnaws  
bones turn traitor
brittle secrets crumble their chalk  
whispering behind your back
and dusty blood of youth  
pumps crimson as ever
somehow missing brighter sparks  
your jaded heart now lacks
 
You make a fist of life
but only time's knuckles  
grow keener  
each second's lash  
a fledgling vulture  
loosed to soar  
then circle and swoop
screaming passion for decay
already tearing empty tomorrow's
and nothing to dream  
beyond the void
 
Eyes grow dimmer,  
ears uncertain
taste and smell fade
Sex, your worn out ghost
slumps in a chair whimpering:  
"Remember me
...the glory days"
 
And here are your pills  
to manage and prolong  
doses measured neatly
packets sealed in tombs
awaiting your crave to plunder
to put death on the back burner  
and cling to misery
but for how long?
 
Soon, you may dredge up courage  
to hurl them into flame
to make it all stop at once--
for even in the anarchy of your best years
you were only ever brave
one brazen moment at a time