Gestalt

In life we come together,

Only to fall apart.

Our words fly ever onward

etching lines amidst the dark.

Lines that lead us forward

Drifting at a marching pace,

Never ceding, always bleeding

from within the wounded place.

 

A scar sewn full from malice.

Or perhaps disinclination.

When one is close it pangs the most,

assaulting inner-nations.

Powers which always struggle,

fiending for precious light.

The wick you've burned so long,

fizzles out without a fight.

 

Darkness approaches first.

Follows, limpid reflections.

Within we feel our mortal hurt;

The one which burns all sections.

Still pitch has ways of seeping,

Corrupting feeble hosts.

Spewing lies 

which make us cry

alone

'midst throngs of ghosts.

 

 

Reviews

[spiritwind]

you challenge your readers to a duel of wits
I think you have won this first round
but I will be back

[CHRIS ANDES]

this is in tacked with a lot of ideas
=]

[Coyote Poetry]

The poem is amazing. Strong statements. Open thoughts and questions.
"The wick you've burned so long,
fizzles out without a fight."
This is my favorite type of poetry. Thank you for sharing the excellent poem.
Coyote