The Poetry Den

Moments This moment light as feathers goes To yonder past where no-one knows And there it's cast into a dream A satin vision so serene Or perhaps a lovely cloud is made That floats above a sunny glade Yet maybe even something still Mayhap a flower on a hill I wonder if I really dare Could it wander through the air And steal a ride on winds that blow Across the fields where berries grow Oh the possibilities If it ended up upon the seas Where roaring waves can clap and sing Or sparkle like the rain in spring For now this feathers flown away A ruby smile gone astray As ticking hands try holding fast To find out they're forever past

Legacy I hold the feather in my hands the parchments plain and bare The inkwell’s resting in its place right next to her chair The canvas hangs upon the wall depicting foreign grace A teardrop rolls down from my eye as I picture your face My eyes gaze out the window with a contemplating look I see the children playing they are splashing in the brook I think back to a time ago when all was gay and light And our parents’ would instruct us what was wrong and what was right And we’d run out through the forest and chase the baby deers We’d sit next to the waterfall its sound would sooth our fears We’d talk sweetly to each other as if we were in love And we’d behold in wonder as the eagle chased the dove We’d climb up the biggest mountain its peak covered with snow And in our cave that we had found we’d shoot the arrow with the bow My mind is filled with memories of how things used to be But my heart is filled with anguish since you’re not here with me I lo

Survivor My eyes sigh from the pain of a void deep within And the emptiness felt as a result of the sin And the wrinkles and lines that caress my worn face Tell of tragic events, and of a forgotten grace My leathery hands relate tales of their own And my ancient attire, of a generation out grown My shoulders are stooped I lack the strength to move on I cannot step forward for the light is now gone My vision is blurring I’m starting to cry I lie in my bed I am waiting to die I’m surrounded by vultures, they are laying in wait They’re filled with conviction that I’ll fall for the bait I have one last defense I clutch close to my heart For without it those vultures will tear me apart A chill filled with fear runs down my spine I’m engulfed by the darkness like a bottomless mine The horizons are narrow I now see the end For there are some things in life that time just can’t mend I’m pursed by a past that won’t go away As it’s shadowy tendrils s

Silent Witness The soothing sound of creaking wood beats gently in my ears as the silent witness of the night observes all of the tears dancing shadows from the flame of an everlasting flight taunt the fool who saw the day and bought into its light outside the tempest rages the trees are shrieking from their fright for the haunt-less  monsters stalk the hills they are searching for the night in a dark morbid  sepulcher lost above the clouds rests the widowed ghost of time lying covered in its shrouds but in catacombs beneath the deep there’s trapped an honest man he must wander through the mazes from the fire to the pan debris flies all around him in chaotic disarray as an acrid stench assaults him, it reeks of black decay but he’s strolling through his orchard on a sunny autumn day as the golden leaves flutter past each looking for its way but as the vanguard of the soulless dead advance in rapturous delight they revel in

Injustice Staring at the starry depths disillusioned by the height woken by the dreary call from the death of endless might empowered with the feelings of the freedom that's now gone endangered by the visions for the glory of the dawn salvaging a dangerous path towards that empty plain trudging through the bitterness of a battle fought in vain searching for the treasure that's now hiding plain sight and suffering in solitude as it veers from left to right imposing on forgotten woes of an era not for now as observers analyze the ways and end up asking how justifying evil deeds and a right do whats wrong as the hangman ties his deadly knot and a herald beats a gong as underneath the wood is thrown a match, up leaps the lethal flame and the victims start to burn alive while taking all the blame for truthfully there is no truth besides for what's inside and each one of us must face the test to choose and to decide for as the rainfall flows down