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New poem

PostPosted: Mon Jan 24, 2005 10:31 am
by Saturn
Well not entirely new - actually about eight months old. I've been re-reading a lot of old poems and trying to rewrite them so here's one I did earlier:


A great phalanx assails me,
Bristling, horrid with barbs;
Tight-packed and deadly.
Every spear stabs sharply –
Darts of pain wound deep
As arrows in an elephant
Which kill not, but drain.
These shafts of sorrow
Slowly drain life’s blood:
Hope trickles, then congeals,
Becomes hardened, blackened.
Possibility is scarred close –
Bruises will ever be felt
From this perpetual strife.

Disappointment’s wounds endure,
Like scar tissue, evident,
Discoloured patches of flesh
Bearing raw witness to
The terrible assault on me
Which cuts deeper by far
Than skin is ever grazed.