The Fade

The Fade

The world rushes on by
You step to a different tune
Pushed along by a different breeze
Caught up in your own perspective

It seems that you slide in & out of existence
It seems that you tread in a different dimension
Flickering on & off in this world

Known but not seen

Considered but not missed

Assumptions that you’re always okay

They have no idea

Because you always seem ok

The mask you choose to present

I matter in my own world

Far more than I ever will in this one

Creation is not how the earth began
Creation is an artistic state of bliss
Creation is a physiology of joy
Creation is a psychopathy of possibilities
Creation is being truly alive
Creation is the manifestation of flow

When I create I am the brightest of colours
The warmest of tones
The sharpest of definitions
The epiphany of promise
The imagination of hope

When I cannot create I start to become erased
My edges cease to have distinction
My colours are flat
My presence is less
My abilities are hidden from me
My hope wanes

These are the low’s I must endure, to be gifted with the high’s

This is what I call…

The Fade

© Iain Merchant 2021