There are some poems that mean more to me than anyone who reads and understands them.Enjoy |
-Columns Dark- by Keaton Foster Above My head Shame Is wedged Pain filled Woven with regret Lending me time More than most To comprehend Retrospection A god unto itself Under my feet Broken rocks Shattered pieces Of what once stood Intricate temples With blessed vestibules Entrances to both This mind and this soul Portals to a preponderance Of unimaginable ideas Expression meant temples To be dismantled And not destroyed Now they are gone Devastated Barren and wasted Such shattered pieces Causing me to bleed Hemorrhaging Nonsensical words That few will understand They are not oblivious Just occupied ignoramuses With a lot on their minds I don’t blame them What good would that do I was once so sure That building such monuments To myself was a reasonable idea And I was quite wrong Columns dark Nothing white Nothing pure Rotten has become this core Blackened is my soul What an empty hole From it Nothing does grow Consuming the world Before these eyes Little by little Those who loved me Have fallen out of view Increasingly blind is the man That has nothing Further to believe Lesser does living seem What I’m doing Is something else Existing is more Than a beating heart Or a thinking brain Existing is about being here When being here Is what was intended least of all Existing is above surviving Those few critical life events The ones that change us In ways of both scope and detail Those events And how we react to them Are of course paramount We must be living the best that we can As we slowly die in such terrible ways I am at odds with myself And the dismantled temples Once built by these hands Columns dark Nothing stands as it once did Nor will it ever again… Columns Dark Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014. |