Internal conflict 2001-07-27

Afloat, someone lingers
counting thoughts on fingers
yet never getting close to their true sum.

For beneath one yet walks,
amid figments, amid thoughts,
of imagination he thought would never come.

Alas, in the depths
and the fleeting silhouetes
the dreamer, strength long faded, crumples.

Soon, the waves subside
and the movement of the tide
calms: the count is done.