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”

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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?

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I hear another poem is coming every Saturday!