Thoughts full of turmoil, questions and pain
like waves on a rocky shore with no gain,
to and fro, from morning till never-ending night,
driftwood full of scars, washed out to remind
of days filled with the tears of yesterday,
Happiness, an illusion flying silently past
like the whisper of wings in the twilight
of every endless day, filled with dreams
of sunshine days, bathed in the mercy
of yet another dream-filled painful day.
Always eluding, like a ghost in the night,
Is there purpose for a wandering soul,
tired and wrinkled by twist and turn
of a senseless life with a thirst so great
for a touch of life, a wisp of lasting love?
Alas, the choice is there, to grasp or hold
the remnants, ghosts and ruins of yesterday,
to remind of devastating winds on rocky shore
that tore into wreckage a once brilliant life,
full of zest, hope and brilliance left behind.
Or to reach out with arms, weakened by
daily storms of non existence, locked
behind bars of self inflicted exile,
no purpose, a bleak tomorrow calls,
living in the shadow of the moon.
On the horizon a ghost appears,
a tunnel so dark, without end, that
tells of futility, barren and empty
like the desert on stormy night,
soundless and without life.
Sadness fills the soul, so much to do,
yet joyful, for the journey’s end within
sight, calling, calling like a refrain
of endless nothingness without pain,
the eagle doomed to fly without wings.
Never to sour again, only to observe
through empty eyes, watching, waiting,
for that relieving day when the sun will
set and the moon won’t rise to cast it’s
rays on a barren soul, waiting in vain.
For life to return, to devour pain,
to lift, to sour, to love with majestic
pride, to grasp a golden dawn
to last till the end of darkened time,
when the sun sets never to rise again.
(330 Words)
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