Two Poems

Insomnia breeds poetry?  Last night it did.

Poem 1

Malignant and imperial cruel spirit
Crouched like an assassin in the night
Cold and calculating scientist
Turning on the harsh remorseless light

Hiding in the vastness of the labyrinth
Boldly marching forth to face cruel fate
Stabbing up from hell at heartless destiny
Lingering in shame inside the gate

A dying Celtic warrior locked forever
Painful visage ever carved in stone
Marshaled without fear or doubt to battle
Slumped and yet unconquered, all alone

No one has a spirit that is adamant
The weakest may still find a heart of oak
A mouse may roar and shake Atlas and Earth with dread
The mightiest wild stallion can be broke


Poem 2

Simple the song that is sung at his death
Cool, crisp and white in this mourning
Never again to be drowned in the depths
No more false hope, useless warning

He reached
For the light
In the heights
In the sky

But did fail
Fell to dust
Had no strength
Left to cry

And so he did wander alone with the world
Body and soul never mending
Drifting there purposeless cold in the dark
'Til the uncaring fog reached an ending


March 20, 2015 2:15 am