"Seemingly Troubled"

this poem was written in a style inspired by Jim Morrison. RIP.

Countless numbers of candles,

drip their shapeless wax to my feet,

warming the very ground around me as I,

continue onward in a blurred function.

 

How many of us truly know the paths in which we walk?

 

The sky gives us the shallow roof,

keeping our souls at peace on our journey the we,

travel to find the true inner being,

which has been hidden and remains out of sight.

 

Our naked eyes unable to locate that which we truly desire,

until the sinful deeds in which we are obligated to commit at birth,

are wiped clean and we finally close in on our subjected minds.

 

The soft sound of the piano in the distance draws us nearer,

keeping our fragile minds focused on the true dirt road in which we follow.

 

Each sweet note hits and rings in my ears,

flushing every scream,

every cry,

every desperate whimper that has ever escaped my tense lips.

 

Gone.

 

This endless walk is nearing termination as I am rounding that final corner,

small, jagged pebbles are strewn across the narrow hall,

falling into the lake around me one by one.

 

They ripple throughout and reach midway before the small waves fade into mere nothingness.

 

I approach with eagerness and caution,

yet allow my internal being to intake every piece of nature one last time.

 

I have made it,

just as the millions of ancient souls have once before.

 

I find my place in the field and lay my head to rest.

 

The breeze has swept over my eyes and taken my breath,

tranquility overwhelms my body and the whispers die down,

and are finally silenced.

Author's Note

ignore spelling or grammar please. I mess up on it all the time...I know. Please comment on other critiques though.

Reviews

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