Expectations

Lost in a maze,

a swirling, choking haze.

Gripping my mind like talons,

shredding up loose ends;

before a thought even begins

down it falls like a spent grin.

Throw another crumbled sheet in the trash,

burn it away til it's naught but ash

in the empty wind of the exhaled breath

fresh from the lips of gloating Death.

Chilling the flesh of my naked neck,

shivering like a nervous wreck.

But what did I expect?

Words on a page

and a fistful of rage

cannot change the fact

that this is no mere act

of a larger part I have to play.

It's not going to go away.

No matter how hard I try to pray

knowing fully-well it doesn't work that way.

I don't really know what else to say,

but if I stop and put my lonely pen down,

I fear I'll lose what little ground

I've gained from this meager effort to expound

upon the darkness to which I'm bound.

Maybe it's time I'm lost and never found...

What else should I expect?

Reviews

[Richard Layne]

Nice write. Excellent imagery of the writing process and life struggle. Love the rhythm and rhyme