The Former Wings
***This poem was written at a hard
time in my life when I needed my
spirituality most, but could not
easily do so due to the death of
family; I fortunately realised that
only my mental state had changed,
not my spirit and love of life***
I had once plunged headlong
to that darling place,
that gallant tease that exists
still;
Gilded-Golden Hill,
not wasting the thrill of chase
and pall bearer blues,
I flew
Death hid away to darkest wit,
mocking the none still thrift
and lit the lamp of decay ---
no more, and poor ---
so poorly my bones made way,
little money little to say,
but gladly, sadly?
give me my day
What is it? which numbs
that taketh away ray and hues
and gladly sun,
warm-shiver hugs, love?
We are not there and despair,
to part unfair ----
we see grey-pale everywhere
and longing for death,
life ----
(illumes the former wings still)
Written and antholigized in 2012
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017
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