Run, before the darkness comes.
Away from where the beast roams.
Steel yourself, for no matter how far you run.
You can't truly outrun the darkness, you'll even pass it to your son
But run you must lest succumbing to the beast you should be won.
So prepare yourself for a great journey. A terrible endeavour.
Stare at your meagre possessions. Be glad they are few. Lest you it devour.
Run your hands along all the things you once loved one last time.
And smile at memories lost, the taste slowly souring in your mouth like lime.
Once again taken by urgency you continue.
you'll never let it take you.
I fight its what i do, it's where you were found.
And from all that pain you were crowned.
Drunk on power and blind to reason.
Moods passing like the progression of seasons.
And from that darkness the beast was born.
So you and all around a pact have sworn.
To keep the beast at bay now and forever.
So travel i must, perhaps this is my final endeavour.
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Author:
myinnervoice (
Offline) - Published: December 19th, 2016 11:27
- Comment from author about the poem: this is more symbolic than most, but some of it is less so than is imagined
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 45
- Users favorite of this poem: poetboy123
Offline)
Comments3
I like the messages of being grateful, remembering memories, and pushing onward. Very nice.
thank you! This one felt different from what i had originally wanted it to be, but that seems to be anything i do. My arts been doing that so much i gave up understanding it.
It is wonderful. Good work!
Wonderfully written and expressed
thank you
Welcome
I see the beast as an inner demon that goes wherever we go. I like the run your hands line.
thanks, i have mixed feelings about this one, i apreciate the feed back.
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