The twitch of a finger, the gleam of an eye
The shadows that threaten to materialize
A rumble of fear that swallows all thought
The pulse just short of bursting forth.
The conviction that shakes three worlds of lore
That conviction is seeming in most, true only in two folk
One who has seen all there is to be seen
One who sees only that which he wants to see
The latter a madman, the former a hermit.
The madman I see right before me
I see through his eyes, I see in his mind
The conviction of the offering
The conviction that god thrilled at death
That god if cared of your thoughts on him
That which struck down the disagreeing
That god indeed fragile is it not?
Imagined traits, smeared on the pure.
Heavens with buxom angels and hells of fire.
What if heavens had fire and hells had angels?
Is it not that fire purifies and angels corrupt?
When imagination runs wild the sun is the moon
Being alive would be a curse and death a relieving boon
He paused to allow a bustling crowd
Soothened his rapid heart, whispering false solace
He turned his fear to anger at the folk
Mindless tales of anger that had been told
Mindless anger that helped him stay bold
Finger edgy, a quick prayer, the click of a button
Excruciating pain, a scream that stopped before it escaped
He was torn from himself, torn from what he had known
He was left with anger, seething anger
No angels, no heaven, no beauty shall ever be seen
Consumed in anger and alas
The reason for his anger, he would now never know.
4 comments:
The sense of danger must not disappear:
The way is certainly both short and steep,
However gradual it looks from here;
Look if you like,but you will have to leap.
No poem deserves anonymity :)
Leap Before You Look :)
U said no poem deserves anonymity or were u referring to the poet? Maybe you remind mr Auden so much of his own thoughts that he just couldn't resist wakin up and gracing ur blog;)
Post a Comment