Pity and self-loathing, those non-identical twins
found lurking near the gates of hell
with heartache prowling there as well
following him while still out front,
this is where his last song begins.
Sighing of some former love still teases him,
her breathing felt while lying close.
Now his living grief and dying hopes
while faltering every few steps,
hold no easily learned release for him.
Looks back on many sunset rendezvous
when faces were not afraid of him,
they had not tallied yet his sins;
kneeling before these memories
wondering which of the bridges he would use.
Called by sirens to a place where sleep comes easily,
no harpies tearing out soulful pages,
where the wine of fear no longer ages,
where even blindness would not matter
as no one cares who is looking or what they might see.
The promise, easily believed, is one of finally resting.
Again, the usual bickering has begun
between the sword and the chrysanthemum.
He tires and weakens more easily now
from pressing weight of failures of endless testing.
Pulled by duty, pushed back by adversaries,
kneels again in bitter shame.
The stench of his defeat remains,
no miracle left on his miracle tree,
no honor in the weight his shadow carries.
-
Author:
Dan Williams (
Offline) - Published: February 2nd, 2025 01:28
- Comment from author about the poem: I feel explanation is needed here. This is from a time in my life, decades ago now, when everything was on the table. I had been nearly killed by a drunk crashing into my motorcycle, betrayed by someone I dearly loved for many years, had lost my job and my home. I was literally feverish and judged clinically depressed. Now, it seems almost silly, but I take some small amount of pride at having survived. So, here is part one.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments3
Massive achievement here, Dan. For my part it was like two gargoyles animating and jabbing and roasting each other in the heights. 👍🏻🙏🏻🕊
This begins with a Dante epic type feel. The first stanza starts with a bang with its first two lines hitting right out of the box. I'll be waiting for part two.
Wow! Wonderful poem and thankful for the explanation too. Sounds like a bit of a sucky "Job" moment in life (the Biblical character...not work...lol) I am hooked and waiting for part 2. 🌹👏
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