Black Excalibur
Left, right, forward, back.
An endless cycle, lost in time.
Wondering what’s wrong,
asking what’s wrong.
When glass breaks, it doesn’t break even.
Shards of time, emotions, and hope are scattered.
They broke the glass,
this stagnant soul is left with the mess.
With a withering broom and dirty dust pan in hand,
all that was salvaged ended with mourning.
But when the pieces were collected out of the trench of rage,
a new foundation was created.
This light emerging from the abyss below,
beautiful as the death of a star.
Melting the glass, cursing all who dare damage true art.
Screeching with light that burns the sky.
A broken sword can be fixed,
there will be a new Excalibur.
A soul for a soul, a heart for a heart.
Lasting forever, in a land apart.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
