Spreading shadows plague a bereft valley
A darkness unyielding, a fill of void
Through which, despite no faith or fantasy
It’s blackened fate offers no escape
A slow pang of dread, wholly guttural
Finds it’s utterance in the thoughts of man
The holding glass has drunk itself full
At the confluence of thought and being
Time and again the parable repeats
Of untapped potential never attained
A chronicle of haphazard defeats
Echoes of untenable transcendence
Though wisdom and truth we have always sought
Our lives and ideals amount to naught
Author notes
Written March 22nd, 2005
What did you think
Comments
-
something worth remembering
Edited on May 16, 2:00 p.m. because 'Dumb comment'. -
Your intent here is so apt, and deep. Somewhat lyrical. A firm edit session to simplify all would make this even better
G-man
Adding your comment:
