Time
The sky benighted, cloudy, grim,
In such a way that even dim,
Was every thought of mine.
And ponderous drops of weighty rain,
This morbid air and smell maintain,
Thus frame this scene malign!
With eyes as dreary as the soul,
Of sloth, whom devil wicked stole,
All cheerfulness divine,
I entered through my entrance door,
In mood that never had before,
My thoughts and feelings dine.
But not received have I just yet,
The third of nails, that vicious threat,
That is toxicity,
I nailed was when the light was out,
No heat, no freezer and no doubt,
No electricity!
The last of light, of soul, of song,
Those to humanity belong,
Have vanished in the dark.
I felt no misery or pain,
Just constant lifeless thorny drain,
Of nullity so stark!
‘Twas lyric song of being broke,
When doubts and wishes try to choke,
Your every inner peace
In that long and painful autumn,
I have made it to the bottom,
In apartment on lease.
The emptiness is Morgul vale,
In famous J.R. Tolkien tale,
Where only voidness grows.
And vast is Gorgoroth plateau,
Where even darkness doesn’t glow,
It is not even close,
To desert dark that was my heart,
To desperate mind, that lifeless art,
Which only past mine knows.
When wayward without light I stood,
There, without feelings, without mood,
No electricity,
My mind forgot the feeling old,
That often through my mind had rolled,
What is felicity?
And thought have I in misery,
If light again my eyes shall see,
Shall thee I recognize?
Or shall then current state of mind,
When death in paleness full me find,
Still linger in my eyes?
Then broken, shattered into smoke,
On old non-comfort bad I broke,
And then I felt asleep.
I dreamt have nought that very night,
And you that I have fainted might,
Have said and for me weep.
The morning met me different man,
With yawning step who quickly ran,
To bank to pay the bill.
With last of bronze in bank I paid,
And from my left to right I swayed,
Rejecting standing still.
Although I knew my daily plate,
In week to come would not be great,
I whistled in the wind.
For I have fought an unknown foe,
Who like a crow, was feeding slow,
On emptiness unskinned.
And as I whistled I grew gay,
And cheered from all my heart: “hurray!”
‘Twas electricity!
The battle I have fought is done,
And only time did bring me sun,
Now such simplicity!
When in despair my friend please call,
The grimmest, longest of them all,
The poem you have read.
In it stood I void and bleary,
But through time got healed and cheery,
Without the sun or bread.
Copyright © Peter Rangus | Year Posted 2015
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