Intangible Path

I walked the path under an asphalt sky. My 
head lifted to the stars. The intangible 
light creosoted my way -again.
.
Which was not quite right. Black night dawns upon a
weary evening, as a winter, white upon 
the autumn season. Endings and 
.
beginnings are all the same. I'd set my watch 
an hour behind, and with my tickets in hand, 
I felt the watchman sigh. For he 
.
knew I was already too late. For my ears 
were not quite tangible enough to hear the 
nothing that sprang from within. A 
.
few more yards down the path, a voice called out from 
the abyss. I tried to follow it, but I,
being locked out from the inside, 
.
my intangible eyes met the disguise. I 
recalled, I had lived there once. Now I am the 
dark, I am the night. I am the 
.
decay of all that -that will never fully 
be understood. I am the nothing from which 
the something was sown. For how long 
.
I had walked this path alone? with each step a 
step closer, ever since the day I was born,
and now finally, I am home.

Reviews

[Phill Oz O'fee]

Existence can only be, when connected to something else ... Alpha and Omega; the beginning and the end. (Rev. 1:8.)

I read through this a few times and on every occasion experienced a distressing disturbance, within myself; yet still retained a feeling all things work out for the greater good!

Interestingly poignant composition!

[TL Boehm]

favorite word? Creosoted. That brings back a powerful scent, almost a taste and a heave atmosphere. Strong poetry.

[Linear]

I enjoyed the walk, the mystery, and your eloquence with word choice, haunting and meloncholy poem, very well written