An Old poem, to those who know me.
Everyday of giving way
Feeling the air being cut away
The circle closes in,
While your heart still beats, and mind still leaps
Only the line keeps you at bay.
They buried you alive!
That's how you feel
Only that the they have no faces
Not afraid of the darkness
Only the pain of being...chained
Alone
Always Alone,
Even when love surrounds you
The mind still wonders
"Tomorrow, I will again be alone"
Looking back over the shoulder
It's not a habit, just a way of living
There is too much pain in the past to bury it,
leave it behind alone...like yourself.
Carry it with you,
in hopes you can look to the past in hopes of future
The fire still burns
The passion still flows
But you know better than Icarus did
So, the circle still closes
Mummified in your own desires
Preferring to live alone
Knowing with certainity
You will always be alone.
There are mornings
when you look out of the window at the green grass
And hear the call of your heart, the call to run
to hope, to live, to follow your hearts desire
And then the rest of the world comes into view
And the dream disappears in the veil of morning coffee
Life goes on
The circle closes in
Leaving just the hope
In death, you will answer the call
Of that beautifull morning dawn.
3 comments:
WOW!The poet's anguish, "aloneness," and altruism is remarkable and successfully captures the depth of solitariness in a crowded world to the hilt. The ongoing and continuous battle to control one's mind and action has been very well identified.
Oh my gosh...I think T.S Eliot has been reborn. Mam'm...I think you have been hiding your linguistic prowess!! Such criticism..I will write more "anguished " stuff!
Darling it takes something as eloquent as " The Song of Life and Chains..." to get Eliot going! ;-)
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