”FROM DUST TO DEFIANCE”
Kings crumble into grit,
and the day slips
through open hands
as if the world were
built on a slope
we never agreed to climb.
One choice becomes a maze
we pace for years,
holding debates with night‑birds
that perch just out of reach.
A man worries over love,
storms, and stories of the deep;
a duke mutters a truth
he should have buried;
beauty darkens at the edges
late like dusk,
and even a bird’s bright call
turns the hour sharp.
Death arrives with courteous posture,
offering a seat as though
this were a gentle errand
and not the oldest crossing.
Soldiers ride toward a horizon
that will not open for them,
and the hours we have
dropped behind us
gather like stones in a pocket.
But then—flowers lift
their small colours,
and something inside us
stirs toward motion.
We learn the countless ways
to hold and be held,
to answer weight with steadiness,
to stand where pressure
once pushed us flat.
We celebrate the rough,
bright fact of being human,
the way a spirit can stay upright
even when the ground
argues otherwise.
Before the wide dark,
we build our unruly haven,
refusing the soft drift
toward a quiet end.
The path ahead is long,
the woods unlit,
yet the inner helm
stays firm in the hand.
Life is brief, yes—
and still, we
carry our vows forward.
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 21st, 2026 05:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments6
Good write A. Similarly, there's books 'The road less travelled' and something like 'The road even less travelled'.
Aww, why they not travelled those roads? Get the No.7 bus if ya don't wanna walk, I say, and get travelling! heehee.
Must be the he worst road or the best, depending on the circumstances 🤣🙏🏻🕊️
Epic in nature this poem speaks to me of life itself and the dawning and setting of the sun where there is no other choice but to carry on. Should we tarry it alters not the course before us and there is no going back. Enjoy the sights along the way fore to do otherwise prolongs the journey. A most lovely write my firend
Thank you, Soren. You are most appreciated 🙏🏻🕊️
Most welcome Cryptic
Your poem explores the human experience of mortality and resilience. It reflects on the inevitability of death and the challenges of life, while emphasizing the strength found in human connection, love, and the determination to persevere despite adversity.
A comprehensive overview which is much appreciated, dear Friendship 🙏🏻🕊️
You're so welcome, my friend
Could you tell me about this poem?
I could but that may get in the way of your journey with it. Hopefully it was worthwhile. But since you asked, Melancholy is the first note, grouped in "downward" themes and the "polite" but inevitable arrival of death and focuses on the passive experience of loss.The line "But then—flowers lift…" acts as the breaking of the fever, shifting the poem from reflection to action. The final section uses found inspiration from famous quotes (Invictus, Still I Rise, Do Not Go Gentle). It concludes with the Frost line, reimagined here not to sound like a weary chore, but hopefully as a meaningful pronouncement.
ariqos, this is a grounded defiance, my friend. Dust, death, and doubt are named plainly, but they don’t get the last word. What lingers is the human insistence on steadiness…building a haven, gripping the helm, carrying vows forward despite it all. This hit and stayed with me, dear poet and friend.🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Life in this earth is but a moment in our real life Rik, we must enjoy that moment.
Andy
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.