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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 17:36:11 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 69747
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Sphere
[time] => 2004-11-01 20:45:48
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => The moon was high with in the night, When I beheld a lonely sight. I came upon it without eyes, But with a touch I felt its cries. It was a globe of mist and due, Of sweating glass both false and true. I saw it there. I know I did. But when I touched, from me it hid. I walked about as if a moon, While from my lips I blew a tune. And as I watched it seemed to breathe. Or did it pulse, or maybe seethe? If what it did I am not sure. Of what’s within, my thoughts did lure. So to its skin I reached again, And what I felt was more than pain. The sweat upon it burned like tears, Shed many times through many years. So I stepped back to gather nerve, And wondered what this thing did serve. Then through its shell I heard a sound, Like breaking bones or splitting ground. And words, I think, I then did hear. They said that I had come to near. And as I wondered what they meant, I touched again the tears it sent. And with my sleeve a window made, To find what thing within it played. But what I saw was out of place, It was a man the shadows traced. A man like me, my eyes did tell. Though I did find he came from hell. And when the moon did fill his world, His head did lift, his eyes unfurled. With eyes so cold he barked a shout, For me to help and let him out; But though I tried I could not find, A lock or key to free his mind; And then that voice I heard within, It told me of his life of sin. It told me things I would forget, Those chilling tails of murders debt; And though I heard the words entailed, I tried to break the sphere but failed. I could not help myself that night, For through his eyes I saw a sight. It was a man, I saw, was me. Or more correct, the he I’d be. I knew right then my futures end, The gardens that my soul would tend; And then the sphere began to grow, It reached for me though I screamed, “NO!” But by it’s force it pulled me in, Releasing him who’d paid his sin. So here I sit awaiting time, To play for me its morbid rhyme; For I must wait till I am clean, Though truth be known I thought I’d been. So sit I must within this shell, My liquid cage, my frozen hell! © 2004 Michael David Morash All rights reserved www.michaeldavidmorash.net [comments] => 6 [counter] => 173 [topic] => 13 [informant] => mdmorash [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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