Just About

A brooding darkness follows me
Encroaches on me everywhere
My former shadow swallows me

Absurdity is in the air

We who have suffered know who care
Or care not for our company
Too late but soon when here is there
Absurd yet not a tragedy
Only tragic absurdity
Of that kind we were meant to share

If only this cloud would leave me

If I could ever find the light
And get a crowd to believe me
Then that would be just about right

Between the profit and the loss
A prophet (with an albatross)

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVII

as in the rime of the ancient mariner, dear steve, cursed with personal guilt from which freedom must be earned. a deeply touching verse cousin, very well done. keep well as always greg..