Phantasy’s Distraction – a poem

Sitting alone, in a dim lite room,
Waiting, ever waiting, for imagination to begin
A story re-told anew, over and over,
Interrupted by life, phantasy’s distraction.
What does this portend, of me
Sitting here, in this now dark room?

The projection of my thoughts now focused
On the ever present images of light and form
Dancing before me, in a carnival,
Of festive play and human drama,
Of light, darkness, good and evil
Love, hate, passion, and joy
Affecting me, a spectator in the dark, ever watching
Pulling me deep, within my emotions, of its perceptions
Provoking my moods, inflicting its wounds,
Causing me to feel both the subtle and overt,
As I sit here, an island, in the dark, watching
Visually impaled, mesmerized
Unable to turn my gaze
From the play of lifes brief page
Sitting alone, alone, in the dark