Far from the depths of night
Whispering days shouting in fear of darkness
Lengthening shadows of a quivering man lying all alone
As void as an orbital circle of no return
Begging mercy in voices of no cheers and tears
The man standing in a world of nothingness
As if no breath to expire for eternity
Still the guiseless man seeking no solace
From the very beneath of his soulless shadows
A tearing silence breaking asunder all the while
The emptiness of the surrounding chasing him
Chasing him like piercing arrows in muffled voices
His days and nights echoing only the lapses of moments
As if no more pangs of faith dropping dead
In humane beliefs from the ancint empire of weal and woes
No more sounds of existing conscience widening
Nor carrying the corpses of the man's dying soliloquy
As if the man twice dead among the burgeoning woods...
Who is the man drowning himself in his own shadows
Who is the man staring vacantly in disbelief
Is it me who has emptied himself of all burdens
Is it me who has buried his treasury of angst of truth?
Still the man breathing in his shallow depth
As if the world has emptied his silence on the grave.

Categories: Poetry [t]

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