Misbegotten HeartA Poem by David Lewis PagetI
wake and prowl the house at night And
wander through the gloom, The
only light that streams are beams Of
silver from the Moon, While
every room is silent And
the passageways are dark, There’s
just one sound, the beating of My
misbegotten heart. But
no-one else is stirring And
the atmosphere is thick, With
dreams and ancient memories From
some old sailing ship, They
rise up from the midden of A
thousand journeys sailed, That
came to grief on some dread reef As
each one said, ‘You failed!’ And
long-lost faces turn away Before
they’ll meet my stare, I
try to capture them again And
say, ‘I know you’re there!’ They
shake their heads in silence and Then
drift into the night, ‘I
know that I was wrong,’ I call, They
whisper back: ‘You’re right!’ So
on then through the early hours My
vigil seeks the past, Re-visiting
each love I lost As
if it were the last, And
tears stream like some sad dream Repeating: ‘Well, you know Just
why I turned away from you, I
really had to go.’ The
years have mounted up, and now Lie
on me like a tomb, Reflected
in the silence of This
darkened, empty room, And
just as dawn is breaking I Cry
out, ‘I cared, you know!’ My
voice, it echoes in the gloom, ‘Why
do you hate me so?’ David
Lewis Paget © 2013 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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