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Michael

Moderator

Member Rara Avis

since 1999-08-13

Posts 7666
California

0 posted 2013-08-22 09:04 PM

Chapped

There is a man who walks alone,
With blistered eyes— with heart like stone.
He plods daily the desert sands
Of destiny out of his hands.
The buzzards circle him by day,
And yet he always makes his way...
A course known only in his head,
The price he pays for living dead.

There was a time when life was sweet,
He found himself light on his feet;
(As if Fate wrought for him a path),
Before his world was turned to wrath.
Still he thinks of each promise made
Somewhere along that green-gray shade,
Till all turned black one dismal night
Of misappropriated flight.

...But travesty's a loaded gun,
So now he sings it just for fun.
The sun only rising again
To greet hell's newest denizen!
Now in the nights, alone and stark,
He sits awake— stares at the dark...
His only peace not torn by sin,
That face he's buried deep within.

And so as each day passes by,
One closer to the day he'll die;
With all skin chapped, facing the wind,
He moves on toward its living end.
Never a frown, never a smile,
'Continues on his endless mile.
His bright future: A barren waste
Of love he'll never again taste.

Michael Anderson

[This message has been edited by Michael (08-23-2013 07:35 PM).]

JerryPat2
Member Laureate

since 2011-02-06

Posts 16975
South Louisiana

1 posted 2013-08-23 03:30 PM

Such a lament for the man whose lot in life is to give up the unblemished and hard facts of life as it revolves around him. I'll swear, Michael, I've said it before, but you have to be the the reincarnated Edgar Allen Poe.

~*~ What do you call a dinosaur with a extensive vocabulary? A thesaurus. ~*~

Paul Wilson

Member Elite

since 2002-07-07

Posts 4711
United States

2 posted 2013-08-23 07:56 PM

Michael...As always, it's a true pleasure to read your poetry. Smooth flowing haunting write. Thanks for sharing...Paul

~~To share my poems with you is to share my heart with you~~
Paul

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