“The Drifter”

How is it that I feel
Like I’m floating–
Drifting and sailing
Towards some faraway place,
Even to my soul?
That grievous sentiment,
Deep in my guts,
Giddily whispers
That, mayhap, this time,
I’m definitely wrong;
The callous wind that blows
Through my porous mien,
Fails to let me comprehend
What must be done,
What must be awakened,
What must be sown;
A thought, most loathed,
Dares to crumble
My very bones.
Am I lost?
Or am I just tottering
At the edge of a precipice?
About to fly
Or about to fall?

Share this page

Leave a Reply