Cast its ugliness upon him while
he lingers under a spell that it
put upon his defeated darkened
soul, he hates himself for being
lost in coma, by a trauma sent
Will he ever awaken from his
twisted past and find a shining
lamp to lead the way to safety
and open a door of hope that
won’t close so firmly in his face
with each attempt he makes to
raise himself up.
He finds himself inside his mirrored
reflection, his beautiful mind, that
once was clear and brilliant but now
fogged up by the swirling mist, hugging
the shoreline waiting to be lifted by
the tides rolling in from a
Once he lived and loved and found
a life worth living , the music,
wine and beauty of the women were
forever present for this man who
now is bent and tormented with
a mind so confused and burnt,
slowly going mad.
Alone at night he tears his life in
strips of colored pieces tainted by
the shame of being born with
potential, yet not given that
spoon of silver, or gold but
stabbed with knife so deep
his wounds to bare.
© Copyright Vincent Moore 2012. All Rights Reserved.