Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the hags of retribution
pursue and possess
there can be no peace, life's
a series of episodes,
a skein of decisions long past
some by conscious design
others by hands unseen
puppet of a puppet of a son of a puppet
whose strings deny as they sustain

why didn't you
it's never too late
i know, i know
don't you think i know by now

they look
eyes proud, hopeful
changing, mutating with my failures,
like x-rays
scanning, judgmental
the doubt well hidden, but always there

if only you had...

wave after wave
like a storm upon the sargasso
seaweed churning, the dark morass
net-like, clutching
sucking
at the rotten timber
the keel dissipated
adrift
but not alone
oh god, to be truly alone,
never to hear the footfalls
closing in from behind
my wretched eyes

a hard read

thank you

I love this...
H

thank you, hester. i like your poem - myth.

bottles,
matriuskas,
lanterns,
paper-ships
... sail!