I was born a seeker of the desolate,
Wandering in fields where
Serenity refuses to grow.
I possess a permeable soul,
Absorbing fresh shocks of anguish
That leave my feet frozen to the earth.
The depth of true despair
Is a flame that still startles
With its twisted misery,
Distorting reality,
Warping interactions.
And yet, knowing all this,
I continue in my mission,
For tomorrow is another day,
And another chance for redemption.
6 comments:
i love the hope in the end of this and tomorrow is always a new day...a new chance at redmption...effective verse...
Sounds a familiar place; not a fun one, but your speaker describes it well. Because the words fit the situation, none of then stand out but work seamlessly.
I like the image,
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"And another chance for redemption"-- that's what so many of us long for and indeed tomorrow is another day for that. Nice! :)
Yeah, nicely! I quite like the way you fitted this together and ended up with redemption!!!
Tomorrow will be serenity!
Beautiful poem of inspiration and possibility in spite of discouragement and despair.
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