• soniacookbroen

the tempest

I’m not alone…wanderer

I’m not the creeping darkness above the sunset

the waiting turn of the moon before it is new

I lie and dream of your caress

your hand against my flesh

through the tempered folds of time I unravel each second in my mind

as though each one is falling into being now.

My love has come and gone

ebbed and flowed

as the tide beneath pale moonlight

swallowing up the carvings I etched in the sand

the dunes I crossed to reach your foreign lands

all this waiting anticipation

while across the world a warrior is waiting

sword held high and hopes higher

cause to fight his one desire

still the storm within his head

and swirling visions

once worlds were wed

and nations falling into play

March forth they say

on judgment day

the end is nigh

across their sky

such turbulence to which they’re born

they have never known the freedom of no war

an endless war is what they wanted

those whose power death decided

and now the self-fulfilling prophecy

of tales of old newly sold

repackaged in a modern form

with the same abuses

only more

revelations without realization

and a for-profit war

#postaday2011 #time