“It is not in the stars to
hold our destiny but in ourselves.” - William Shakespeare
Magpie Tales has used as a prompt the painting “Wind of History” by Jacek Yerka, about whom I have blogged before here. My offering, inspired by this painting is below:
A Winter’s Journey
Revisiting all the places of my past pain
Is my destiny, as Winter drags on year-long,
And endless sheets of falling cold, grey rain
Envelop landscapes in monotonous song.
(Forget I should what I must and mustn’t do…)
The distant goal of all my journeys is the same,
Approach so close and then so far again to be,
A cruel, repeated, endless, pointless game,
Treading the circling spirals of my traces, never to flee
(Forget I must what I should and shouldn’t do…)
The ruts of my previous journeys run deep,
But past experience futile, knowledge vain;
Each trek brings new torment, as I creep
Towards redemption – a goal I won’t attain.
(Forget I ought what I’m obliged and not obliged to do…)
As night falls my desperation grows more acute,
Memories haunt me, suffering grows strong –
The ruins of my former life form a familiar route
How could I live in such error, all my choices wrong?
Forget at last what I ought and oughtn’t do,
To live a life that’s fresh, unshackled by the past;
Escape from reminiscences, build all anew,
Tread paths unknown, my destiny recast.
Magpie Tales has used as a prompt the painting “Wind of History” by Jacek Yerka, about whom I have blogged before here. My offering, inspired by this painting is below:
A Winter’s Journey
Revisiting all the places of my past pain
Is my destiny, as Winter drags on year-long,
And endless sheets of falling cold, grey rain
Envelop landscapes in monotonous song.
(Forget I should what I must and mustn’t do…)
The distant goal of all my journeys is the same,
Approach so close and then so far again to be,
A cruel, repeated, endless, pointless game,
Treading the circling spirals of my traces, never to flee
(Forget I must what I should and shouldn’t do…)
The ruts of my previous journeys run deep,
But past experience futile, knowledge vain;
Each trek brings new torment, as I creep
Towards redemption – a goal I won’t attain.
(Forget I ought what I’m obliged and not obliged to do…)
As night falls my desperation grows more acute,
Memories haunt me, suffering grows strong –
The ruins of my former life form a familiar route
How could I live in such error, all my choices wrong?
Forget at last what I ought and oughtn’t do,
To live a life that’s fresh, unshackled by the past;
Escape from reminiscences, build all anew,
Tread paths unknown, my destiny recast.
You write so d*** good.
ReplyDeleteI adore the way you have jumped off the painting as a prompt and are relishing the words that rose up within you
ReplyDeleteKel
www.cre8space.blogspot.com
I adore winter...but this gave me a cold dark shutter...
ReplyDeleteI love how you ended the dark and gloomy tone of your poem on a positive note .... :-)
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed the depth to this one adn even related to it a little. I really am terrible at moving on.
ReplyDeleteAmazing poem! Loved it...
ReplyDelete