I stand here at the
P
r
e
c
i
p
i
c
Entirely alone,
Feeling empty.
It is finished—
Finished—completed—
Done.
Looking out—
Vision now reality—
Meaning meeting
The marrow
Of mercurial
Messaging,
Smoke smolders,
Smothering souls
Sucked into
Sanctimony—
Certain of their
Own salvation.
Disheartened,
I look away,
Not that I anticipate—
I never anticiapte—
Because I cannot wait.
I cannot stay here,
I must move on
I must move on
From the sand
Under my feet.
I am no Jonah.
O Lord,
Either way,
Your will be done.
Amen.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, November 18, 2025.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Online) - Published: November 18th, 2025 07:15
- Comment from author about the poem: I’m now published in an anthology featuring authors from across the Poconos, PA. All proceeds benefit the Pocono Liars Club — a collective of authors and editors dedicated to supporting and mentoring local writers. Available in paperback and Kindle, please consider purchasing one and supporting a great cause. https://a.co/d/58uxM69
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Online)
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