Caged beyond my modest means,
lies the crypt of great intentions,
of gilded edges and marbled gleams,
present happiness and tall ambitions.
Within the cemetary of dead dreams,
I find my one and true salvation,
the purgatory of poetic schemes,
where sleeps unlived, my self expression.
Buried I lie soiled, unclaimed,
a soul in longing and shackled privation,
doomed forever to only glimpse,
what life is, was and future portions.
Entombed under the burdens within,
buried by stones, diverse contentions,
awaiting the end with counted chagrin,
languishing in words and poetic mentations.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 postcards:
Post a Comment