Blunting the edge of perception
traded for insecurities?
The scythe of emptiness
has failed to kill the loneliness.
It was bound to come, as destiny
not as rushing water nor of wind,
but silent, being that which is despised.
The western sun has fallen,
the world has slowly changed,
and melodrama, rotted halfway up the thigh
has acquired him with regular progression.
Yet, he would not search
or travel Cupid's blessing
through painted forests.
Until the blush and Irish laugh;
sunlight dancing behind brown eyes
—the return of acquiescence
to a life of pleasant surrender.
What wonders he could pen!
But would it seem a Line
blunting the edge of perception
and fail to kill the loneliness
leaving trembling hands with nothing
save the emptiness
and a shamrock-breasted bear
chanting prayers
for the damned.
Keith E Sparks Jr.
Copyright © 2004, 2019
Written in 2004, Later appeared in "Facets" 2019
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