Tuesday, March 4, 2014


Shatterfall, the wind too weary
From crowds encumbered there
Alone the darkness, sad and bleary
The crowds too large to care
Crowds still gather, grow each day
So many lost along the way
Fame fools some and glory too
Clamors rise in grayish hue
Inspirations lost to din
The heart decides to seek within
Drive sanity through depth to true
Fame and glory, only slew
But, now, the teeming masses whole
Amass the silence of the soul
Wherefore, the soul cries out its heart
To find the way and, then, the start
Soul sings such songs as wills the ways
Closed eyes, heart open, body sways
Then, follows there, in comfort dark
Vast shining vistas, sere and stark
Now is seen the vain false hope
Of crowds that teem on broken slope
But the way beyond the dearth
Shows to be but fallow earth
Further on is seen the field
That only seeds of soul can yield
No longer lost to touch and feel
No longer tossed, the soul to heal
It lies all 'round, soul can't confirm
But guides eternity to term


© 2012 whickwithy

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