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Bright Black Heart
In this bright black heart
the longing for better days aches
the memory of halcyon deeds awaken hope
yet only as a torment to reality bidden forth
This twisted flame of reality burns
but does not warm or comfort
slowly the ache recedes only to flare up vengefully
and with ironic intent to mock and choke all respite
Words are all I have left
enemies gone only blustering malice remains
spiteful friend of peace and haven safe
twisting the knife in happiness's broad and vulnerable back
What happened?
surely the road was wide and clear and smooth?
how could one wander from such a fair way
to such treacherous and broken ground?
They say the inner reflects the outer
I do not believe that
the peace I feel is tightly woven by acceptance now
I am tired, let them come
There shall be no great battle
and no great Valhalla as reward
only a fading of all I held dear to myself
within myself
There is a desert within me
some call it peace
some say acceptance
I use these words as they do not choke me with bitter dust
Yet i see hope
in the fates of others
my own seems sealed
my mild snarl of discontent is oft mistaken for a zen-like quality
Yet I remain loved
always do they try to break themselves upon my hard bark
I soften, I strip myself of all crusted protection
so they do not wound and bleed upon me
So
I remain for as long as I may
I feel frustration as a constant buzzing in my head
I long for one last war of redemption
yet I fear I have no harm left in me
The seas roar and break upon the rocks
the winds howl over mountain and valley
the rains batter and hammer the unlucky traveller
nature has no remorse for itself or anything else
there is a lot to be learned in such things
what they are I cannot say
for this bright black heart of mine
cries a million molten droplets of weariness
Each day.
Editing stage:
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Comments
swamp-witch
Sat, 2014-03-22 21:57
Hello DarkWaterBlue,
I found this poem very refreshing. It explores a theme I'm drawn to, but in a way I haven't seen before. I particularly enjoyed the line "cries a million molten droplets of weariness". "Molten" for me implies lava, but you never see people describe weariness or sadness as hot liquid rock, just mostly as rain or snow or biting wind.
I also enjoyed the bit of internal rhyme between "aches" and "awaken" in the first stanza.
I am a little confused by the fifth stanza:
They say the inner reflects the outer
I do not believe that
the peace I feel is tightly woven by acceptance now
I am tired, let them come
Who is the "them" on the last line? It also seems like the last two lines would connect to the first two lines as a response (as if you were explaing how/why you don't believe "the inner reflects the outer", but I'm not seeing/understanding the connection.
Otherwise, like I said, I really enjoyed this poem's fresh take on weariness and morbid/macabre thinking. I look forward to more of your work!
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Esker
Sun, 2014-03-23 22:10
as said previous by Swampwitch..
i too fell in with the pace of this read..
i enjoy the paragraph and spacing
and last line....
again i like the ending but then with
any good read the last lines are the
best.....i read books for those
moments.....
i like your word usage
very descriptive
and expressive
thank you!