Thirteen

Would that I had seen this fate
at four and twenty two.

Would I still have breathed the fire
that set my life in stone?

A pearl that made from grains of sand,
dark and tightly spun;

A spiral twist of tears and man,
forever all alone.

A damn poor gem if truth be told
and why would I not say

those things that came so hard to me;
high cost for empty soul.

Thirteen days and thirteen lies
had found me at my end.

I had sought to keep inside
a power I could not hold.

Tell me now o’ lonely one,
hold me to my truth.

Is this thing that you now see,
is this the dream you chose

when you had wished and you prayed
to all the gods above

for better things and sweet life;
a fairy tale of old?

I know not now who I was
or who I could have been.

Now I just walk upon this road
of dust and buried bones.

© 2013 Stephen Boothe

Advertisements

About txyogi

Fifty plus year old Network engineer, father, grandfather, webmaster, graphic designer, guitar/bass player, yogi from Texas. View all posts by txyogi

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: