Become
I close my weary eyes
I quake and tremble
The meaning of life losing its hold,
Losing its wonder
In this magnifying, mystifying Sadness
Where is the river,
Where is the ocean
To drown these sorrows...
The dry formations in this barren land stay tall,
Pools holding life drying in the dinosaur wasteland
I am bones...
I am bones sinking in the waterless chalk
I keep these eyes shut
To hide inside my meditations
My ears have grown accustomed to the silence,
And sensitive to the drops of tears
They dry too quickly,
For the sun is against the moisture
And all for the fossilization of my soul
Where is the river?
Where is the ocean...
I do not ask with hope-
I am too ancient to beg for miracles
To dream, yet, too long I have slept
I ask on account of who I once was,
A land so lush and plentiful
See now only the dryest thrive
I am bones on the brink of history...
The elements have claimed me
Life will return elsewhere
I am become by the rock and the sun
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment