Candidate
How can I snap out of it?
Open hearted, contents spilled to the world;
crying as if that might redeem it,
self-same reliant, or did I dream it?
If only, I scream it, if only
I wasn't so damned and lonely;
if maybe, just maybe, she
would rescue me,
deliver my dependency,
abolish my despondency,
unchain my love and set it free.
Anchored to her centre of gravity,
magnetised by her protective coil,
nestled in her aura.
Reborn some spiritual suffragette,
and yet, in love, and yet, and yet
time crosses time and lapses torpid,
sunk in the clay of derelict duty,
and fades the spectral memory,
fades the days, the essence of beauty.
No choice of letting go,
no chance of holding on,
everything drifting away,
everything emptied and gone.
Why worry, why fatally ruminate,
pace the foot worn floor,
why be the disenchantment candidate
when you could be so much more?
Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005
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