UNDONE

UNDONE

A Poem by BROXEN REFLEXEN

All the Coins have long been forgotten now rusted away to nothing at the bottom of the wishing well that was filled over with dirt and now rests under melted asphalt pavement of an abandoned parking lot to a condemned shopping mall...
The final chapter has been turned... closed shut
and yet it was never written...
Along the with all of my loved ones there came a time I had to bury the characters of my imagination...
now lost lost in a world of isolation and separation where self is but a fragment figment of memory oh how I miss the days of truth the days where creativity woke me from my slumber sparked like fire throughout my mind from my heart to shoulder to arm then elbow to hand then fingertips moving pen across paper one blueline to the next blueline to the next blueline page after page after page
oh how I miss those moments where my ideas not only filled my heart but filled rooms and most of all... the void
heart I will no longer beg for your forgiveness nor will I plead for your mercy
the question that asked years ago is the very question I have been asking myself these past few years as I have been shut away from the world locked inside the confinement of my own self loathing and misanthropic agorophobic existence...
Who am I now...  Now after all the coins have sank to the bottom of the wishing well in the final chapter has been written without me and closed upon me
with no one to blame except myself...  I know lay rest my pen for the final time and quote Tichborne with an elegy

my prime of youth is but a frost of cares
my feast of joy is but a dish of pain
my crop of corn and is but a field of tares
and all my good is but vain hope of gaining
the day is past and yet I saw no sun
and now I live and now my life is done

My tale was heard and yet it was not told
my fruit is fallen yet my leaves are green
my youth is spent and yet I am not old
I saw the world and yet I was not seen
my thread is cut and yet it is not spun
and now I live and now my life is done

I sought my death and found it in my womb
I looked for life and found it was a shade
I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb
and now I die and now I was but made
my glass is full and now my glass is run
and now I live and now my life is done.

© 2008 BROXEN REFLEXEN


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Added on September 15, 2008