"You can make anything by writing."
--C.S. Lewis


"Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted"
-- Percy Shelley



Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Alone amongst Blurs














Sitting here, surrounded by sound
Voices of people and music invade
My ears and my spirit moves in slow motion
Acknowledging nothing
I’m sitting alone in a crowded room
Where the world and its people come to sit
To escape the hectic and dive within
Into their souls to see their true selves
Solving their problems, aligning equations
Losing their souls in masked invasions
To find a completion to all of this mess
And to place themselves
Where they just might feel blessed
As they sit and stop and search to find
They give blur to the truth and lose their minds
And as I sit alone in a crowded room
Without a soul to caress my lofty heart
No consolation to find for my plagued soul
Alone and lonely and broken apart
From a world of people who look to solve
The problem of pain and the earths resolve
As I sit alone and move in slow motion
I condemn the blurs and masses around
Breaking my soul… that tearing sound
As I seek to solve the problem of pain
But I have all the answers in my brain
Yet I am going insane as I try to solve
The mysteries of them, and the earths resolve
And the circle lies within my eyes
As I sit and peer down from statuesque seat
Unto the blurs of the lost, blind, wandering feet
And I discover why my soul feels so incomplete
Cause I sit and peer and I point at the meek
And I rest amongst the blurs as they are trying to solve
The problem of pain and the earths resolve
When I sit upon the truth, upon my statue
Knowing the truth, yet scared and broken
Until I walk, not lonely again
The circle appears and I feel the sin
Of the circle itself as I wander again
In the sea of lost souls as they are seeking to solve
But I bring clarity there and I bring resolve
To the searching the wanting the desire for truth
As my statue is shattered manacles let loose
And the slumbered awake but the world remains slow
But the blurs are now clear and I see without fear
But the circle has power, and I cannot win
But the strength of the beauty that now lies within
Is that I am not alone, nor broken, nor dim
But a lamp being used to bring light unto him.

1 comment:

  1. You are such a strong poet. I am in awe of the way you think. I have to work so hard for simple writing. I am jealous.

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