Opus
And there are words, often useless, often noise
Sometimes they are more
Small pieces of a history set free
Bit by bit they leave and take
Small shards of what I used to be
And I am less, yet I am somehow more for the loss
Fallen to the ground, or received
Parts of me are gone, never again to be found
If heard, if understood, they live on in another
As I become unbound
In a here that never was,
Shared with what always was…
What will always be…as it was in the beginning
Is now…and always will be
More words spoken in the dark night
And I pray, though I am not a Christian
I meditate, though the East is but a dream
And the words rise
I release what is left of me
So little remains to be said
When they are done
There will be peace
Empty to accept
That I am
With nothing left to say.
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.
