Glasslight, whence is falsehood?

It's half-fiction.

There are nights I spent praying,
Only to realise my god is a glass panel.
On my sins I have stopped counting,
And begin wonder when will my life follow.
The erasure of fate stole moments from me,
But the golden clock has yet to stop.
On its tower the bell churns but one melody,
A signal calling the red bunnies to hop.
When will the others realise the inevitable,
The clashing tides of which sorrow bound.
When will I recognise the evil I have enabled,
The wicked deeds I committed without a sound.
Then art thou the chosen one, whom to free me,
Or art thou the destined one, whom to kill me.

- Leon / Stu. T.H. (February 24, 2024)

Reviews

[Kane Hagwood]

Erasure. Now THAT is a word I'm going to have to write down and use for later.

This poem feels heavy yet at peace with what is to come. Good. Bad. Justice of any form, however it needs to come. However, knowing what little I know of the creator, the guilt feels misplaced. Although nobody truly knows another, I don't know how helpful it is to count sins with questionable value. We were never meant to be perfect. We were meant to learn.

Yet it's hard. Seeing how progress and regression seem to work and in hand. Chaos from all the order humanity has fumbled to place, like railroad tracks, all leading in different directions, not even bothering to work with one another. It can feel hopeless at times.

"The Erasure of fate stole moments from me,
But the golden clock has yet to stop."

To me, this reads, in my mind
"Every record of the good I did has been burned
But I still live to tell the tale with my own breath."

What better way to stop a healer than to guilt them into questioning their own ability. Better yet, make them question their role in the ruin they spent years trying to fix. On both small and large scales.

Surely I'm reaching to some extent. But there comes a time in my life I have to let the poetic side of me lace with the intuitive, and this is how this poem reads. It is a beautiful piece, with far more to unpack than I have already. Perhaps I'm shooting off in the wrong direction entirely. I either offer a subtle laugh or moment of insight. Either way, I hope it leads to consideration that prayers aren't always answered in awaking hours.

If there is choice, I believe you deserve freedom rather than a bitter ending, friend.

-Kane :)

[Stu. T.H.]

Thank you for your read, author Kane Hagwood, I hope it was a read meaningful enough to last within your mind and become an inspiration for you in more ways than one. Have a good day.

[ale]

the last two lines reminded me of shakespeare's sonnets and the rhyming couplet :] lovely poem

[Stu. T.H.]

Welcome back, author ale, and thank you for your kind visit. I wish you a nice day.

[Arundass TP]

A well written philosophical masterpiece. Enjoyed and felt immerced in this poem. Well done

[Stu. T.H.]

Thank you for your visit, author Arundass TP, I hope to write more works like this. It seems that works like this have a pharmaceutic effects on me.