Stumbling On

Dan Williams

Clumsily limping now

along washed-out pale beach strewn

with the bones of now futile hopes

and unrealistic dreams.

Plans so carefully planned out and mapped

now mock in skeletal silence.

Even the sand seems sad.

Where is the so-called solace of time?

Where is the worth in persevering?

When can the hurt be felt to subside

while the cruelty of loneliness rules?

 

Collections of regret, armloads of distress,

not a scratch yet still physically wounded.

Bleeding profusely from nonexciting wounds,

how can this weakling survive?

Undeserved praise from poorly informed observers

revealing if reality is acknowledged

there is no hero here;

only an inaccurate reporter crying.

Only remorse as shelter, only guilt to hide behind.

Time passing is rumored to reconcile,

as lacking of substance as any fairy tale.

 

Hunker down in useless self-pity,

limp on both legs at the same time,

craving redemption more than water,

each as unlikely as the other.

Admit even contentedness as unobtainable ,

surrender to distress as companion.

Stop whining and accept your providence as brother;

this fear as inevitable.

No hand will be outreached to rescue,

no angel to absolve you of your sins,

no path not strewn with landmines of failure,

yet you stumble on.

  • Author: Dan Williams (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 3rd, 2025 23:09
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 9
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Comments +

Comments3

  • arqios

    Quite a vital message nestled in verse here. Good to see you around the site 🙏🏻🕊️

  • sorenbarrett

    A metaphoric wasteland is pictured here with little hope and full of despair it is a grim and dark picture. Well imaged and with good flow it runs toward its inevitable end.

    • Dan Williams

      Grim and dark indeed. Close on the news of impending passing of my long-time music compadre and mentor I have also lost a dear friend of fifty+ years. I don't think there is any good cheer left in me.

      • sorenbarrett

        My condolences are offered

      • Poetic Licence

        A sense of a constant despairing wasteland, with little energy or hope to hang on, but we just carrying on wading water, enjoyed the read



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