The Citadel
A citadel of secrets on a dry and dusty plain
As I journey on always protecting the flame
What do I talk about to fan the dying ember
Of times when I was happy and want to always remember
Time is such a fleeting thing
So the poets want to bring
But what does it say to you
When you think it through
So here I am as the citadel
And wondering what the hell
Do I start again even though it is so late
As all things inside of me are left to contemplate.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Copyright © Paul Warren | Year Posted 2023
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