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While exploring existentialism in what has been a very monotonous week, I've decided to translate my physical feelings (which I almost never do) and my inner desires into words.

I hath long lost any hunger
And fell into a deep slumber
Staring into the final ember
Of the faint dance of fire

I hath long lost any feeling
And struggled to find a meaning
The entire world to me seeming
To have given up all desire

I hath long lost any friend
And wandered lonely to no end
By the river’s dimm’d bend
Hoping to spark an ire

I hath long forgot what I had
And thought myself to be mad
Until a soul of golden clad
Appear’d as a flaming pyre

I hath long since woe’d
And to God’s name I call’d
But with silence He replied
Was it her or just the fire?

Author's Note

Any and all critique, opinion and thought is infinitely appreciated and I sincerely hope to hear just about anything.

Reviews

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

I enjoyed reading this poem of yours. Keep writing and never stop. Writing truly is a lifetime journey.

[dwarvenking]

Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. So far I am not planning to stop, it has been a very unique journey up until this point, only remains to be seen what will transpire in the future.

[John the Baptist]

I think you would do well to replace all "haths" with "hads."

[dwarvenking]

You think? I always kind of wrote in the fashion of 19th century gothic authors so replacing had with hath has become a sort of habit, though I think you just might be right about this one.