In Search of Self

In Search of Self

 

In Search of Self

In Search of Self

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I wrote a spell into the

Night, as the wax dripped

down my candle light and

felled upon my writing tablet,

leaving a splash of ink,

a reflection of a man who held

his feathered quill so tight in

deep thought and heavy brow,

to tell a story about a

a soul of long ago, and what

he had become.

 

A warrior from the past, who

found a life of solitude,

loneliness, pain and sorrows,

who chased the elusive rainbow,?

trying to find the pot of gold

at rainbows end, yet it hid from view

never to reveal to him the truth,

of why he was here and where he

would end his search for meaning?

 

This poet writes of life experiences

and sometimes loses himself in despair,

and wanting of another reason to keep

his quill dipped in the black shadows of

elusiveness and turmoil.

Yet

his anger flares up when he is lost for

words, and wants to rip his heart out on

pages that lay before him, like a mirror of

white emptiness and passions lost time.

 

He cries out with whimpers and buries his

head in his hands, for want of another verse

to materialize before his blurred vision of

brain cells, not connected to his pen hand

he wallows and squirms lost in despair

praying that his thoughts will render up

a verse of passion, love and merriment for

all to take into their souls and feel filled for

having read this poet’s works of sacrifice.

And

time spent through the nights of burnt wicks,

candle wax flame, and stale night air.

This poet now rests his weary soul knowing

that the ink has dried and black has turned to

verse and helped another reach deep into their

minds to ease their pain, sufferings and find

the strength to lift their heads and open eyes to

see, and feel the healing power of the sun’s rays

on their faces as their feet touch the floor of life

and allows them one more day of great peace,

thankfulness, and joy in their hearts, uncertain

of the future, but caring not as time takes care

of its subjects and changes for no man’s desires

 

© Copyright Vincent Moore. All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

 


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