Wandering

Wherever I go, whenever I go, I always end up in same place,
not bright... not dark... just only without any embrace,
a place of withered dreams, without pride or sweet disgrace,
funny or sad, I always seem to get there without any trace.

When I get there, there is a large miror, in wide vivid space,
and the only thing in it, full of questions, my wandering face,
but silence is deaphening, no answers or cue, of me all unaware,
just an empty image, with a heartless stare...and a colder glare.

I slowly turn away, and face in mirror...sheds a single tear,
a tear of remorse, a tear of emptiness...but not made of fear,
a tear that slowly withers..dries...while whispering my name,
like it's quietly wondering...will next time...be the same.

Reviews

[Maria M.]

This is exceptionally beautifull! The way in which you create a scene, the "large mirror, in wide vivd space," is stunning and truly seems to capture the essence of the conept you are discussing--this wandering in search of something that can't be found. Great piece! Thank you for sharing :)

[ecept]

Goodness, your last stanza really pulled my heart strings.
This is so good, i love the sentiments in this wonderful poetic write.