GOLDEN FLEECE

bow unstable, arrow heads rusted
I am lost in search of my golden fleece
I have wavered on sustenance
tarred and feathered covenants
doubts increasing with every step

into the darkest depths
I have waged the wars
this land and ashore for
the momentary prize
I have closed my eyes to love and life
to travel with bread and bloodied knife
on the road I have taken,
the fools path...
for I suffer,
but not of Gods wrath

tearless in pride
I cast his gifts aside
dark in my depths
only shadow resides

Reviews

[Priscilla Sayers]

Beautiful sorrow, reads like a lovers death and the will to trudge on. When I read the last line though, it makes the poem hostile. Very well written piece!

[Chris]

A strong and questioning write.