Stir of Heart
Down down down I go, deeper into the confines of my feeble brain, for I have tried
to live and have done things that excited my inner being, just to be let down
again, to lull in mine own heartache, where does it all end? Is there an end or is
this my hell on earth, my hell after death, gelded and betrayed, tortured destiny in
a sea of anguish, for I have tried again and failed. Morbid soul aloof standing
alone, but wanting to be captured. Remorse dwells and nourishes on mine
heartache, exiled to the ground, eyes brimming with involuntary tears. The eternal
feast thrives on my admiring heart, for within me lies a love so profound that
ancient idols are jealous, apathetic fellow travelers, that follow in mine footsteps,
trying to find a love that is traveling out of reach on the fastest wind, toward
serene and luminous fields. I stand alone, hoping for a magic hand of chance, to
foster a flicker of pleasure. Stir of heart.
Copyright © Kenneth Fordham | Year Posted 2008
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