deepundergroundpoetry.com
Survivor's Guilt
The words, they come much slower now…
I’m not sure what to say.
Confidence lost— the why— the how,
Given to yesterday.
I hear the drum and I march on,
Destination unclear;
Yet pay the cost in hopes withdrawn,
To passion’s uncried tear.
The dreams, so few and far between,
Have lost their clarity;
(That truth beneath all things unseen
No longer calling me).
Every askew inkling of trust
Bordering on dismay,
I so bequeath my soul to dust,
And body to decay.
If there were time, I’d fix it all,
Or at least would swear to;
But, truth be known, I’ll barely crawl
The rest of my life through.
Archaic rhyme, the only friend
Not abandoning me;
But seeds unsewn, the graves I’ll tend
For all eternity.
Yesterday becomes yesteryear—
Tomorrow, yesterday;
(A mind will hold faces so clear
To voices gone astray).
The fallacy, etched deep in stone,
Keeps the memory pure;
Through storms so cold I pass alone,
Though never will endure.
Published 3rd Jul 2015
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likes 5
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comments 9
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The author encourages honest critique.
This is so soulfully sorrowful, Shine. Written out of the deepest of pit of hopelessness and despair perhaps after the loss of a loved one.
3rd Jul 2015 10:59pm
Indeed, Ahavati, sometimes the loss of someone is so overwhelming there is not finding your way out of that pit. Thank you much for reading and commenting. :)
Michael
Michael
3rd Jul 2015 6:27pm
"The dreams, so few and far between,
Have lost their clarity;
(That truth beneath all things unseen
No longer calling me).
Every askew inkling of trust
Bordering on dismay,
I so bequeath my soul to dust,
And body to decay."
~just gonna leave it at ouch.. (stammer..)
and back away..
"Through storms so cold I pass alone,
Though never will endure."
~evoking tears your forte here.. peace luvz
writing it out sometimes heals/solves, & sometimes makes your crumble(or others)
seem more real and unavoidable.
hugs and love
~T
3rd Jul 2015 11:01pm
Writing it out is all I can do love... there is only "it" when it's upon me. Could have still used a *lick here yanno, love.
Michael
Michael
4th Jul 2015 9:29am
was warm loves I swear.. your words made my hell of
07 brite n shiny again...
my *licks are yours.
love
~T
07 brite n shiny again...
my *licks are yours.
love
~T
Anonymous
- Edited 25th Sep 2020 3:45am
3rd Jul 2015 11:07pm
<< post removed >>
4th Jul 2015 1:12am
Taryn, as you kind of stated, it always crushes you if you allow yourself to think on it... and I have lost near all dear to me, so needless to say, I think on it way too much. Thank you for your kind words and your hug. :)
Michael
Michael
Anonymous
5th Jul 2015 4:59pm
The title drew me in (sometimes titles carry half the credit of a poem)
Very well written, excellent flow and certainly the subject is well conveyed.
I enjoyed reading this Michael. Thanks for sharing.
Very well written, excellent flow and certainly the subject is well conveyed.
I enjoyed reading this Michael. Thanks for sharing.
5th Jul 2015 8:47pm
I so agree on the importance of title in a poem... this one came easy to me though I often struggle mightily trying to come up with a good one. I appreciate the detailed compliment, Rina, and thank you for gracing my my page. :)
Michael
Michael
