The Shadow of Sorrow
Tis nothing to be discovered in the shadowy depths
For sorrow has permeated the once pristine landscape
Petroglyphs carved by our ancestors; eradicated
Canvases of the masters; defaced by a sharpened blade
Words of the poets defiled by angry vitriolic voices
All that was beautiful, now reduced to fading memories
Pictures in the mind’s eye; already mirroring blackness
Not the falling of men, but the fall of just one man
Aloft on the wings of fabled creatures of the night sky
With the sun behind and eternity at his crossroads
All clocks working in unison to ensure proper provisions
Waking hours revealed to be those of a man in servitude
And yet the delicate thread of forever, was irrevocably cut
Unceremoniously, all that was measured lost its value
A curtain pulled away with a revelation of great magnitude
Across time, no longer worthy of measure nor countenance
Sightless memories of blurred visions at the corners of the horizon
The sun refusing to share its golden light and needed warmth
Moonlight casts no energy; no recharge of the monthly cycle
Broad strokes of a rueful brush and the graffiti of nothingness
Rest comes with great trouble in the search for resolution
Night gives over to day and then to night again; and still…
The shouts from devices demanding an audience; but for what…
The time for wickedness has been thrust upon us; or upon him…
Without clarity and without the prize and vigor of youth; he waits…
Scrutiny comes from within, but also focuses on the same
When is enough a sum which can be equated to have meaning
Pity how life can be crushed with such simplicity; such audacity
Leaving a man with too many questions and none answered
Trust shattered by the final understanding of the great reveal
Stepping forth with a lifeless step and hardened soul
Once begun, the pattern refuses to give way to all else
The gloomy burrow of emotional hibernation begins its era
No man is an island, yet neither shall he be a fortress; but soon
The walls are already under construction; shields up and firm
Battles raging in his personal netherworld; blood will flow
Pellucidity unavailable while the air is still thick with strife
All that which was free now imprisoned in an iron cage
Tis but the beginning; the plaintive discernment lingers on
The emptiness unfolding of two separate pathways
To the west goes the man; to the east does the Muse
- When We Lost Control - October 13, 2025
- The Crumbling Space Around Me - October 10, 2025
- Sorrow - October 9, 2025
Powerful and evocative ! Great work, Ralph.
Interesting development of thought Ralph, well penned and masterfully expressed. Great work.