Monday, July 22, 2019 10:52


Am I to wander forever this place of grey sorrow,
where birdsong is mute and the sun’s rays are but obscure?
Shall I never again feel the wind on my face;
the brusque coolness of morning’s dew at my feet?

My heart beats with a fire yet my mind is empty;
my fingers seek to grasp but are numb.
Is this the beginning, perchance the end,
a way forward without going back?

There is no war here, no peace.
Men do not die in battle or infants cry their first cry.
Flowers do not bloom, nor do they wither and die.
No storms blow. Yet wind has wrought ruin.

Where is God; where the devil?
I see no good, I feel no evil.
I cannot weep, yet tears run as a waterfall from a mountain.
Feelings of passion fill my very being, yet I am calm.

My cries for help are dubbed into silence,
my pleading eyes sightless.
To my questions I hear such bland riposte.
Am I forever to wander this place of grey sorrow?


Copyright © J E Emberson 2007