Forever laced within its might,
A tragic end for you to fight,
Where no one wins and None to lose,
The rope around my neck a hose.
I hang and await the order,
To send me even further.
Down a lonely rocky road,
Where hoards of silver and yellow golden
Wings will soar me far.
Further then a place I’ve been or ever seen.
And horizons in a landscape of half slept dreams.
Only to awake the same.
Slowly dying by the clock of time.
-
Author:
RSM (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: March 12th, 2025 10:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
Comments1
Images pour though this poem as if it were a dream. The line (And horizons in a landscape of half slept dreams.) is marvelous One metaphor on the heels of another keep the reader on his toes. A lovely write.
Thanks Sorrenbarett. I havnt been getting your writings in my feed as much as I used to. I'm looking forward to catching up with what u have been writing.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.