Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Voices in the Passage.
Whatever shall I do with all this rage.
Maul me as does the carnage of my thoughts.
Is it not for glimmer of the apposed.
And such disdain thralls my heart with peril
To dowry brought now seem foul and rot
Chiaroscuro fiddled to tone and soften mistrust
As your chicanery leads me astray.
All you have wrought now bestow prejudice.
However shall we find the answer we seek.
As clear patterns emerge into the abyss
Only to find the depth of void
I dream this day not arrive
For all that is my uncertainty.
I fear perhaps I am an lone soul.
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The curse of a mind that is not of this time space that will wonder its own hallways alone never finding the door to its escape. Perhaps though the curse is not the prison but the view that is imprisoned.
ReplyDeleteYou pieces of pain to which answers can never be found in the questions never asked.