PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Of waters running free. To me the liquid did seem 
To enhance the world around me. Everything was right 

As long as the waters glowed. Gathered in celestial light, 
The streams of life confided me and I became a beacon 

For thoughts gone astray. What I felt was right was good 
As long as I believed in it and my vision was seeking 

The path to relief. Looking through the tangled woods 
I realized the world would change. All the fickle dreams 

Would become real stones. The stones would weigh me 
Down and I would try and uncover them, but it only seems 

Like a solution when the waters recede into tunnels to be 
Caught in waves of pain in their glittering facades of doubt. 

The flowers on the shore would wither and I would see 
The grass turning brown as I learned to painfully shout 

My submission to the change. A rainbow must begin 
Where every shadow falls in silence and the light of day 

Becomes a beacon of solitude. In the hassle of a sin 
I become a rock of solid waste and never let me say 

That the end is nearby. I crawl into a fatal shell of empty 
Serenity, which when I open it becomes a dribbling day 

Of defeats. Inside my tussled head lies a vision of me 
That I recognize as being from the shallow earth. 

I reach behind my back to find a never-ending sound 
That blisters inside my head signalling my cosmic rebirth. 

I am drawn into the waters and it seems I am upward bound 
Into the memory of starry night gone flat into the mire. 

There is a rustling in the leaves that can only be my mind 
As I create a world of new in which I will begin to inspire 

The signalling of the end for the hope I might find. 
And this becomes my enemy, this becomes my birth. 

I am renewed through the waters of life; waters of pain 
That begin to fossil playfully upon the aging earth