Stormy night.
He runs free, wild
like a black Corsican, a goat.
His weightless thirst
tries again.
His voice cracks,
it doesn't happen.
I'll always run.
Blinders on my dreams,
the corner that saw everything
from time.
The edge of "step by step"
I never unsheathe.
A shark's fin
cut off for pure pleasure.
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Author:
Damaso (
Offline) - Published: June 9th, 2025 16:08
- Comment from author about the poem: The night of the blackout awakened the indomitable spirit of the raid.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence
Offline)
Comments4
Excellent write
I'm so glad you like it, my friend. Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing your kind words. Best regards!
You're welcome
A most interesting read with multiple metaphors. I liked the line (Blinders on my dreams)
Thank you so much for reading. I'm glad you connected with that thread. I wish I could fulfill my true dreams without getting lost in the ups and downs of mundane existence. Best regards.
Many blinders on peoples dreams, some have no control over these blinders. They attack and control from within building barriers and destroying progress in the persons effort to find a restful inner peace, well expressed write
Thank you so much for stopping by. I'm always impressed by the power of interpretation you have when giving feedback. The hardest part, and your worst enemy, could be yourself. Cheers!
And it usually is, enjoy the rest of your day
good write
Thank you so much for stopping by to read and share your feedback. Best regards.
you are most welcome
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