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Prophet

Why do I keep trying?
Why not give up?
I am but a watchman,
Surveying city streets.
I see the dark one lurking.
Attack!
I cry out,
I shout.
Everyone listens,
Smiles brightly plastered,
No one hears.
Blank faces turned away.
How long must this toil tarry?
I tire of defeated truth.
Lord, let loose your justice.
Lord, grant your mercy.
Please remove me from my post.

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Comments

  • Bob Fox
    April 1

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    Poet

    I have often wonder.These watchers. What exactly are they looking for. A sign? A moment? A passage . Yes perhaps a passage to peace. Like your words...Lord, grant me mercy. Let me get the hell out of here. Well done young poet.


  • She burns
    December 2, 2008

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    kinda sad and touching here, with pain that bleeds and everything inside, It's like written for me too, especially when you said" I am the watchman, surveying city streets"


  • Lexie
    August 17, 2008

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    great poem. i loved it. and this part really got to me:

    Everyone listens,
    Smiles brightly plastered,
    No one hears.
    Blank faces turned away.
    How long must this toil tarry?
    I tire of defeated truth.

    great great job


  • Rend the Veil gold member
    August 17, 2008

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    Brillant!

    this was excellent, wow i could not have writen any better,

    I really enjoyed this piece , keep up the good work!

     

     

     

    Rend The Veil