Seriously wounded as a helpless, moaning soldier
dying on the bloody battlefield,
I tread a trial not foreseen by me...
seeing my expectations wane in blurry visions.
My road was smooth and wide
without perils that a travel often encounters;
your uncaring attitude and oblivion
are the treacherous rocks I stumble upon.
My generosity is not cherished with appreciation,
giving should be a selfless act expecting no returns;
my well overflowed with the purest water,
and I refreshed your thirsty soul in times of distraught.
Dearest of all, you kept coming back to receive more
and with open hands you waited for your gift,
I filled them with whatever I had bearing self-need;
sweetest of all, a stained conscience brings on defiled love.
I could beat these rocks with my fist and bleed,
lay down and painfully die to end my frustrations and avoid self-pity;
would it be worth doing it and earn perennial damnation?
Driving down this road some late morning, you will spot a corpse
unrecognizable as a mingled car that crashed at high speed and not stop.
Most adored of all, trudge the same road I trudged
and stumble upon the rocks that fell from the mountaintop,
then look at that sheep-shaped sky ready to thunder and explode.
Most loved of all, never fear...my umbrella will shelter you from raindrops.
Inspired by Chris Aechtner's poem, " Closer "