This is a collaboration I had been working on with a friend a while back. We might change the title. Her name is Rebecca Larkin. She started the poem with the first line and from there we switched back and forth. Wrote it at the beginning of the year sometime; forgot to date it, oops! Anyway, enjoy!
Like dust in the wind, we are doomed to repeat ourselves
Mingling past with present, we collect on the grimy shelves
Of past’s hard keep, falling on repeat
We gain from the pain and strange bittersweet
Taking in the reality-split dreams
The etching pangs of truth bursting at the seams
With every glistening drop of clarity
We engorge on the reliefs of now—a rarity
Thoughts pool in a sludge of black, gleaming like oiled silk
Denials spread like fires; saturated, we bilk
Pain and tragedy strike their resonating, dissonant chords
A darkness and sadness we can only desperately afford
Pain. . .strife. . .repetitious like a swinging pendulum
Achingly perfected rhythms gainst the beating death drum
Slivers of silvery hope shine through darkened clouds
Only to be covered again in menacing, smoky shrouds
Faith is left dying in a pit of despair
As the rest of emotion looms helpless in the air. . .
Nothing seems fulfilling anymore
The replay button fools my mind and cuts me to the core
Round and round it goes again like the jagged tick of a clock
Striving for purpose—screaming for love to find the lock
But only silence escapes, beneath the skin torn lips- nothing remains
The aftermath of quietude aches, scraping against endless pains
hope falls away into a deplorable state; waiting—hoping—for resurrection
And the painful power of truth is forced to gaze at its reflection
Questioning whatever has happened to faith and belief?
And why are the cliffs of sorrow so steep?
Like settling dust we merge our present with the past
Leaving the future on the shelf—too empty—too vast
Squandering the sand of time with nothing left, nothing left