ONE OF A KIND
In the corridors of a muddled mind,
Within the condensation of a thick fog,
I often find,
A relapsed presence, a menopause
In life, an uncertainty
Of kind,
Where good and evil dined.
Poetry is the release for such a mind
For it abides,
Inside the realms of the unknown,
Hands you a key to reach,
Un-reckoned heights,
Ventures into twilight,
The beginning or end almost tangible,
The journey, virgin as a bride.
Ideas cascade vigilantly fast,
And sometimes in stone are cast,
You think your mind
Is playing tricks,
You hope the misty clouds above,
Will recommend,
And bring to an end,
This troubled mind,
One of a kind,
The likes of which, no one will ever find.
A sudden darkness creeps ever close,
A demon like, vile haunting chill,
Steadfast in your spirit, soul
And mind,
It will not influence your will.
Let good and evil collide,
For you have finally
Chosen your side.
The unwanted solitude that was once
Yours, arresting the normal start, if
Theirs such a thing, of every day
You have sent to its dreary grave,
The winning post was always
Within your sight,
But you took time to
Understand your blight,
For blinded by the terror of being
Lost in the corridors of a muddled mind,
Your rightful route you
Could not find,
Bravely, you did not waver and have
Proved, you are, one of a kind.
Copyright ©
Jennifer Proxenos
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