Thursday, February 25, 2016

Stairwell


Heavy were my legs
              and blistered were my souls
                      as I climbed
                            dropping stones and sweat
as I went.

An ascent, the carrot grew
                           sweetly downward
                                  in your striking light
                                         I rose to the events
put in my path.

Sequentially steeper
                          pushing me down
                                      the air thins
                                          and blood chills
glimpses in steam.

Packed and thrown
                            the key, precious ego sinks
                                         reaping its slaughtered pleasures
                                               deflowered by appetite
famished and sated.

Starvation and salvation
                                  the lighter the load
                                                 only to reach
                                                       destiny's plateau
wilted and near weary.

Well, I didn't know
                         as good as it gets
                                           is nowhere near Yet
Grace has wings
                         on Time she flies
                                            passively Bye.



Image by Caspar David Friedrich [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, Owl on grave c. 1836.    

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