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Open Poetry #48
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Recurrences
| Open Poetry #48 |
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Recurrences |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California 
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Recurrences Worn and restless, weary— wan, Living his life the best he can; He stumbles forth along his way, An exhumed ghost from yesterday. The blessid spirits guide him on, (Through life's experience, withdrawn); A mingled chorus in his head, Refusing to reveal he's dead. But sometimes he sees things aren't right, With all lost to eternal night. While creeping fingers in the mist Urge him forward— gently persist. And so he follows, knowing not The reason why; an afterthought Of decisions he never made, While envoys of regret invade. All while the passions of the living, (Vile, wretched, and unforgiving), Push him further, never showing The path he's on, or where it's going... ...Or why he cannot turn around— Find his way back to holy ground. ...Or why silence he searches for Somehow got lost in evermore. Where all he knows, in fact, is lost Sleek ambition's exacting cost! The price paid to appease a dream: Exhausted eyes, no more agleam. Till, with the death of all that matters, He'll not hear the glass, as it shatters; Just linger on to start again, Some other place— some other when. Michael Anderson 4/20/2013 |
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| © Copyright 2013 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved | |||
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Beautiful, Michael, with multiple tinges of hope. Owl |
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Gale Senior Member
since 2013-06-10
Posts 578Russia |
I like your poem, Michael! It's sad but give some hope in the end! And I like its flow ) Well written! |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
fine writing...James |
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