Cincinnati, oh, United States
and bard like prose
like tiny speckles that fill my soul
touching deeply unto the great Dark
planting humanity into
that which was stark
though how far gone it may have been,
matters little of the how and when
for with each little clash
that protrudes from my life..
that wisdom that I learned so well,
forgotten as emotions swelled..
and although I was weak...
I was tempered, forged anew..
will I fail again you ask?
Will I again touch upon that soulful flask..
knowing now what I know?
Like forest shadows, and darkning nights..
and bardish prose of heroic fights,
and all things done, undone, and forgotten..
If something once again reaches to touch upon
this great dark,
I will laugh in advance at the wisdom that will be forgotten.
Edward A. Beerman