Nothing came to claim my muse
instead I dreamed of freedoms folded
neatly in a chest displaced in debris
of a crater; the best were simple choices
the rest forsaken promises all bombed
to shreds beside their makers.
All around the sound of raging thunder
rumbled in a fractured night lit bright
by streaks of blinding light that tore
the vision from my aching eyes – I lie
beside the chest which huddled quiet
in abject fright an orphaned child.
I held it in my arms and cried for lives
forgone, the price of lovers rudely shorn
from life, their children never born; my
muse had bought her freedom’s flight
to soar alone and not be caught –
she rues the thankless night.
At dawn I rose to skies worn grey with
sullen clouds and dismal chill, my will
suborned. I tried to rationalise events
and failed to find a common thread
to lead me to resist the test, reveal
the contents of the chest.
© 2005, I.D. Carswell