Memories in Red & White (In Memory, MH)

A red flash, and the room is filled
A babble of burning zeal
Spider arms that seem to splay
Out to the furthest corners
Fervour in the eyes
Fever in the explanation
Doling history like pure sustenance
Doling knowledge out like oxygen
And leaning on the wall, a guitar kilters slightly sideways

And from one of a million unseen nowheres, a voice freckles the air with "all things have their limits, even time"

A white flash, and the teeth start chattering
Beneath a wobbling upper lip
Of hairs of flame, twisted together
Projecting a voice that is loud and constant
Snaring people with its passion
Hooking them in to share the secrets
And hauled into the conversation
The guitar's strings twang in resonance

And a voice inside the soundboard whispers "time; time; time"

A red flash, and the heart is filled
Blood-wrenched and rebellious
Pounding out a selfish pulse
That beats against the natural rhythm
Betrayal betrayal betrayal betrayal
Spreading pain throughout the body
Betrayal betrayal betrayal betrayal
Pain like a burn with nothing to stop it
Pain like a scalding rash of menace

And a voice dragged from the future hisses "time will soon be coming"

A white flash, and the brain revolts
Gorged by its rebel-rousing chemicals
Inward-turned to pulped destruction
Grinding pain like bone-on-bone
A cuckoo in its own nest
With its ostentatious strength of mind
To make itself a mundane epicentre of a life

And a voice calls like a memory from a place lodged in the beyond – this is your time; please come quickly; do it now with full commitment; do not rest upon your laurels; spit in the pain-specked face of the sweat-soaked black dog panting; walk away; along the river; walk through the gates of the prison called freedom

But he wakes and turns away and says "not yet – my time has not arrived"

A red flash, and the room is filled to brim again
A babble and a bubble of recovery
The comeback of the enthusiast

And the voice for once is silent

A white flash, and the smile returns
Beneath an upper lip now bald
A voice regained
To still beguile
To still ensnare
To still the fears of a future bending back to kiss the past

And a voice says walk the line with care; retain these precious moments

A black flash, and a man is gone
Extinguished in an instant
As if a light switch has been thumped
By a drunken sharp backhanded slap
From posterity grown resentful
And there are too many voices in the room
Spread like a smell of burning
Too many failures trying to help
And panic scalds the humid air
And a bubble of spent zeal erupts
And smears his frozen lips

And wedged across the thin divide, there are too many voices calling out, voices stilled and voices fading, merging to their futures

A yellow flash, like sunshine distilled
Released and stretched to point the way: a burnt path to the next stage

And a voice calls: there is no time left; now there is only infinity, which is just a word that tries to mumble "time to try again" – please come and try again

And there is no flash, just a smiled acceptance
Lingering on the air
As he waits, and listens, thinks, obeys,
And walks into the next stage