Oh, fortune then a
breeze blowing me
past my life and into
the next.
I neither remain
vigilant or even hopeful
for values higher than
the worth of my ruin.
This longest of ends
makes dark sorrows
of contemplations, long
held of dreams that since
have departed my reason.
Forward and into tomorrow,
I must surely perish or worse,
suffer hope- that illusive fruit
that grows ever more bitter with
each bite.
Cursing the pains of my
indignation, while I must
tow the wind of life behind
me. When hence it fails to
make sail and carry me thru
to the ended torment of its
long winding traverse.
Soldiers adorn the road
telling things of youth and
wearily giving me glimpses into
the nature of this travel.
Neither catching rest or being
able to cause this delay in my
fate. I trust not, in using my
experience to guide me further.
Wonder has ceased to arrive.
Acceptance replaces the fray of
my busied thoughts.
The reservation stated thus,
shall be kept no matter what
I have lived or how forceful
I engaged in love through
my time of dying .
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment