The Brink
Be still
Wonder
What chance have I?
From under
So eloquent
So dear
Is it cold to touch?
I fear
May grace
Be instilled
May dreams
Be fulfilled
Walk on proudly
Eyes keen
Senses sharp
Dead
No in between
Lest we all question
A greater design
Have our minds stopped wandering?
Or was I left behind?
I once moved
Within your circles
Without so much
As a leery eye
Now I’m no longer welcome
Passed over for the young
The spry
Heavens open
Drops descend
My surroundings soaked
I miss my friend
It is so simple
And so clean
So effortless
And pristine
Bladed gently
Against one’s skin
Crimson trickles
I miss my friend
My eyelids struggle
I feel my teeth shrink
These edges I have walked
But never past the brink
A brain argues with itself
A slow hum becomes a din
Roaring gloriously now
And still
I miss my friend
All the years
All the tears
All the parts
Torn asunder
Leave me here
Leave me dear
But please
Be still
Wonder
Monday, January 19, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)