Senescence

Were not these narrow bridges mine
And not so long ago
Anchored to these ledges
As if grown of trees and hedges
Near the path where, nowadays
Nobody goes

Did not this building shelter me
In dark and violent climes
Set with a foundation
So unlike its core creation
In the alleyway that wears
A veil of vines

Was not this mask the one I wore
In crowds to shield my soul
Cast in alabaster
Porcelain and fragile plaster
As a shield to cover eyes
Made out of coal

Is this to be the final wave
To those who saw me true
Fading apparitions
Weighing hearts with new conditions
Til the parting leaves the sea
No longer blue

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