Poetry: #102 I Don't Want to Fly (Used 10)
A selection from a personal collection: Used
Preface
As this collection unfolds each week, I want you, dear reader or listener, to understand that no matter what you’re going through, what you’ve been through, there is an end—there is light at the end of the tunnel. Letting go of the past is only possible if you live in the present. Make the past history, learn what you can about yourself, at whatever pace is comfortable, and I promise your present will take you to a brighter future.
I Don’t Want to Fly
Boundless abyss, that’s as black as coal Broken biceps, a whirlwind torrent Empty hearts oh, and the empty plates Frozen fear and, yet I find the steel. Entire scorn, still unborn Feeble bones, sink and feel Far beyond, the ancient thrill A taste to pass, a moments rest Together at last, he trembles past Chilling laughs, and haunted eyes Terror filled, and yet he tries To forget her sight, and all her skin His entire stock, continued to thin Loss of blood, and loss of pain In the dark he’s, still bound by chain The losing games, forever rain What power does, he wants to gain A piece of night, a peace at heart Something that, would not be bought Boundless abyss, as beautiful The rainbow there, its part in full Made by light, and made by rain The molecules, and all their chain Hastened by, his dark desire Burning bright, his last desire Sinking down, to his knees Falling through, whatever pleased To reunite, the lasting mark Weakening, his last remark All is lost, the pit is clear The rain has washed, all held dear Darkened skies, forgotten trails One more night, tortured the while This is what he, called the last mile The chance to fly, the isle to reach His love is lost, on that beach Far away, from his world Battered with, a million words All his thoughts, and all his fears Are met with naught, but crowds of jeers He won’t last, more than he should There’s no time, to crown his thrown Yet he claws, at the food His hunger builds, he wants to atone Echoes once, a forlorn grasp The skies darken, he finds a glimpse Some stars burn, as bright as day Hidden within, small relays Day after day, when love is grey The thoughts of pain, the need to fly To further tempt, to listen hard The lessons he, had been given all To fly as high, as the eagles soar Yet his wings, they are forever sore His hunger's great, his mind is pure With the thoughts, of broken toys The battered will, the tempted soul One more day, what does he say? “I choose to land, where I am My miles I walk, till I die No you won’t, hear my cries! Fly away! I will watch! And as I march, I will be taught The reasons why, you must fly For this I know, it’s written in stone And as the last, rays fall beyond The horizon where, your shadow yawns It retreats, to the night Just like the jackal, that is my life”
Postscript
A friend mentioned a few words were grammatically incorrect or seem incorrectly spelled. The grammar is fixed, good one Previous Craig and Proofreading Craig, but the word pointed to wasn’t misspelled.
Thrown & Throne interchange was a deliberate “artistic mistake”, and why I believe it is important to document these choices should it not be obvious to everyone (or anyone besides me) why something is off. Not everything is an “artistic mistake”, but neither is every mistake artistic.
Cheers and see you next week!
What are your thoughts on this poem?
I hear another poem is coming every Saturday!
Well written!