30 August 2013

Forsaken Promises (rev)

 

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Nothing came to claim my muse, instead I dreamed
of freedoms neatly folded in a treasure chest lying in
the debris of a crater; the best were simple choices,
the rest forsaken promises bombed to shreds beside
their makers.

All around the sound of raging thunder rumbled in a
night lit bright by streaks of blinding light that tore the
vision from my eyes beside the chest which huddled
quiet in abject fright – an orphaned child.

I held it in my arms and cried for every life forgone, a
price of lovers rudely shorn from time – their children
never born; my muse had sought to soar alone and
not a hobbled freedom’s flight – again she rued the
thankless night.

At dawn I rose to skies worn grey with sullen clouds
& dismal chill, my will suborned. Tried to rationalise
and failed to find a common thread that lead me
to resist the test – reveal the contents of the chest.
© I.D. Carswell