He is no longer himself
a ghostly apparition
who walks the halls
confined by doors
disconnected by the passage of time.
Moments of clarity
grow more sparse
as connections fray
circuits blink away
and signals fade.
His world, my world
our worlds
destabilize, float
now unmoored, on course
toward an unknown
ending.
A pendulum in motion
swings to and fro
counting the minutes,
the hours until finally
time runs down, the motion
of the clock stills itself, and
the last chime sounds.
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