Epiphanies

An old journal entry of mine (18/12/2012) explores, rather mournfully, if there are defining moments in one’s life. To (painfully) quote;

 “Deep in the abyss it seems that no matter how much one persues and analyses the past, not a single defining moment can be found. Was it this, or that? Then, or there? So, you are at a loss. At which point did it all go wrong? Was it the decisions made? People met? People lost? Were those moments of self-discovery, perhaps ill-timed? Ghosts, voices that will not fade, and scars that will not heal haunt us all. “

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Aloft

Drunk on wine and blue cheese,

Cigarettes rain down hill,

On these sheets full of sleaze,

Sloshing, and I standstill.

Skin you of your being,

So I may also be free,

With your new eyes seeing,

Losing the need to flee.

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Lost

The fairground, finding myself in mirrors,

Perplexed and dazed by the lurid colours,

Of green and red and blue plastic rivers,

Hardly a place of magical wonders.

Step and sink into a cavernous tear,

As a clocked man, in black, with joy looks on.

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Warrior

A warrior, stained to the flesh and core,

As the dead float calmly down the river.

This soldier with everything to deplore.

With only the weapon of words to roar,

Tarnished true sword cast down by this giver,

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