Tuesday, 17 January 2012
Heart pounding head spinning
I try to fight it but i know its winning
this heavy fated feeling inside my soul
an ache in the fathomless deep
tolling like an ancient bell.
And to its knell the sun descends,
as the moon champions the sky again.
The clouds of doubt roll over the cold sky,
blotting the starlight from off the dappled land.
Some fading glory of a second sight sinks,
a remnant of a sorrow in a borrowed hand.
Does it rise again with the dawn?
or does the emptiness of the great mourning,
the beast with the devouring maw,
whose flashing teeth, and sundering jaw
peal dread upon the frozen forest floor,
heep scorn upon the vanquished heart some more?
Remnants, echoes of futures unseen
resound in the depths of these questions i glean,
dimly, through the shadows that creep from that place
mired in the inkiness, steeped in that space.
Love rises, still...
A sun in an opalescent sea
to crash upon the bulwark of this will
and seep between the cracks,
of you and me.
© Richard Michael Parker 2012
Posted by RMP at 19:58