Ageing,
is counted
not by years,
but the anguish
endured
as we bear witness
to the death,
of our heroes.
Either by time,
neglect
or
their exposure
as nothing more,
than simply human.
So with every
dead icon
the catalyst
for hope
that we
can be more
than we are,
fades.
Now, we count
our years,
beside luminary remains.
Effigies of bone,
bleached by the sun
in this empty desert
once filled with faith.