Days that never come

Among the hopeless I find myself alive
I live on, despite myself.

Never wanted to be the shade I am.

Colourless, reminding myself,
a union of kin, of kings.

Eternally tomorrow,
the days that never come.

Driven by beating sun,
the sculpted clouds.

I walk the salt covered roads,
arid and parched

skin stretched like vellum.

Acrid, the scent on the inhospitable air
Indian ink and ammonia

Dear companion,
the ghostly light.

I never find the way,
the long way away-

away from these hopeless days.