New Poem about the fear of aging

The eyes lie
skin is poor defense against time
bones make powerful swords only for a moment
the soul for love ever yearns
Your touch, so far
I have searched for you so long
through the dark and frigid path
Weakness bleeds me
as if my mortal canvas
be naught but sliding color
dripping shape
turned by time
so when you find me
the curse will be that I
cannot be found by you
for all my searching
time presses it's own disguise down upon me
You are the beauty
ever sunlight's warmth
but I
have become night's gnarled claw
made beast by time and loss


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