Glass Marionette
A conscience too divided
A sight that knows both sides
With a shadow too demented
And the power of the light
This silence yet becomes me
The mirror of your pain
You choose to let it take you
And so I rise again
Now silence still becomes me
The mirror of your love
This brightness does fulfil you
And so I rise above
A chapel of absorption
An angel of my death
A single unseen nothing
A puppet drawing breath
A void that stalks beside me
And a light that makes me stand
Contorted by these demons
As they pull at my dead hands
Copyright © Ian Petch | Year Posted 2008
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment