The entrance to the cave
Of lost hopes and barren dreams,
Lies guarded by the zephyr,
He lies in sweet repose,
His aspiration you will not hear,
As you steps begin to falter
On the borderline to hell’s gate…
The world a catastrophe,
All humans anesthetized
By the brutal genocide
Practiced by men
Since the dawn of time-
The cessation of hope,
Squandered for a fool’s gold,
Jaded by the misery suffered
In the quest of greater glory…
Ha!
You may practice your necromancy,
But your soul is in quarantine,
And you shall find the door
Guarded by one who dares not sleep-
But I digress,
For the meaning of life is,
Ambiguous-
And your petty dreams
Meaning nothing,
Compared to the spirit
Who once moved among you,
And now dreams anew,
But he does not dream,
Of you…
As (God) Neither Dreams Nor Sleeps, He Only Creates-- Let's You Humanity Do All The Dreaming,Screaming, Running, Thinking, Making Dark Dreams Come True!!!
The deep-dive literary meditations presented as stories, poems, and essays in The American Poet Who Went Home Again, A Mosaic of My Soul at Work, have captivated and inspired readers ever since its first paperback publication in 2008.
Hearts of Gold
Synopsis
by
Frank P. Whyte
Portland, Oregon is known as the City of Roses. Of course that’s an odd name for a city whose mere mention conjures images of driving winds and torrential ra
"...For the meaning of life is,
Ambiguous-
And your petty dreams
Meaning nothing,
Compared to the spirit
Who once moved among you ..."
Only you could write from this viewpoint with this much depth. I'm applauding, seriously.
TRASK
God bless,
Tim
love Tinka