The wind blows
A stream of rain
Dancing drunkenly on the gravel
The loneliness reaches
A final depth
And those who dwell there
Do so unwillingly
For it is there
That the secrets lie
Along with shame
And remorse
They who languish
In this place
Will never see
A smiling face
The flaws
Of which none of us
Are free
Continually haunting
In their memories
The heart and soul
Now rarely content
Seem only filled
With lament
The years were not stolen
Merely given away
Remembering is
How some pass the days
Yesteryear's joy
Has turned to stone
The heart
The softening of which
No longer seems possible
It is here
Where some must live
Until the end
Kickstart My Art
7 hours ago
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3 comments:
Your line - 'The loneliness reaches a final depth' plunges me into a kind of beautiful melancholy.
This is life, this aching sense of loss that echoes with such finality. The realisation throws a gray filter over our eyes. We know it. There is nothing we can do.
Yet when I read poetry as sensitively written as this, I have hope.
sounds like just as my fog is lifting yous is descending.. remember i am here for you,,,
this piece is beautifully written tho and carries with it as selma says a sweet melancholy...
I liked the title you gave the poem. And the final stanza is very powerful.
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