A single flame on a candle's stick,
Proclaims to the watcher the world.
Within he sees that mankind is sick,
In the passage of time, he's hurled.
A great black boat upon a starry sea,
Produces within him a deep regret.
For, far beyond time's faded memory,
He remembers the sea's spray; wet.
Oh, the agony of the life he denied,
The pain, the sorrow, the life he forgot.
His decision made over a failing tide,
His refusal to admit what he sought.
He observes motions of man and earth,
Through the cold candle's flame.
He cries for he knows just what he's worth;
He does not want to play this game.
From the sky, he watches the winds pass,
Mountains heave and mountains fall.
A wet expanse changes from blue to brass,
As the Fires of Heaven enter the brawl.
He cries for what he knows will not be,
Decisions he has long since spoken.
But from his hold he can never be free,
For the man's spirit is long since broken.
Author notes
I like the idea of this contest. Good stuff.
Written March 2nd, 2004
A contest entry
- Slipping by someoneweknew.
300 points, ended April 17, 2004, 40 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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This was a lovely piece. It makes me want to take that poor old man's burden and place it on top of my own. Your imagery was tragically beautiful, and the words flowed together well. You've a gift with words, thanks for entering, and good luck.
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Swasome
Fantastic! I knew that telling you about this contest would be a good idea! You did a beautiful job, just as I knew you would, because I remember the conversation we had not too too long ago about the elements, so you immediatly popped to mind when I came across this.
Fantastic, again, I love the way this flows. You have a knack, I say. A knack.
Swasome! -
Wow, great poem! I really enjoyed the word choice and I especially liked the last stanza. Good job and good luck in the contest.
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