Timshel (Thou Mayest)

On good, evil, sin, virtue, defeat, and awakenings. On the human soul.

Travel to the realm of dark and rest your eyes ‘pon wounded lark,
Hiding, crying and abiding he rests ‘pon fettered wings. 

Resting in the golden fallows, pain drains out, for now he’s hollow
And though he feels he’s cursed to wallow, he sees what goodness brings.

Tearing from the epicenter, cursed to be his own tormentor
Never set or made to vent, he fights nature to sing.
 
Inevitably the black storms in. Worriedly, he breathes black out.
Always worry - fighting doubt.
Never made for war himself, he stares up at the sun.

The rays of light cleanse toxic hide, he blocks his view, the darkness lies.
And soon he wonders why he cries and moves those fettered wings.

The numb does leave; Gaia cries out, and soon the pain
replaces doubt, and though the shock does sting like clout, he’s glad to be alive.

“I have a choice! Don’t want to cry! Don’t want to sit and ever-lie! I’ll be as good as I can be! And in the end, t’was meant to be.”

His wings stretch out with revelation, pushing off a great frustration.
Never lie. Nevermore. His wings stretch out and now he soars.

Author's Note

Do not linger in the darkness, for you will never find your path.

Please enjoy!

Reviews

[Luisa]

I'll be honest, I didn't understand this one until the end, and then reading your caption made it really clear. A second reading was helpful in that regard. I like this one quite a bit for all the usual reasons (rhythm, rhyme, flow, etc…I must be boring you with these), but I like that in this one you choose the metaphor of the wounded bird and you stick with it without breaking "character," to the point where it isn't clear until the end what the poem is truly about.

[CHRIS ANDES]

I've pictured out life's confusion in here
as what people encounter everyday
I like the way you put every word into order
nice write
=]