I’m looking for the perfect cloud
Contrasting night with perfect shroud
Of stars the moon has been allowed
To put on display to make me proud

They light themselves up every night
To my chagrin; to my delight
And though I know not which is right,
I stray between peace and the will to fight.

There are no answers here for me
As is the case in philosophy
I am no knight, no prodigy,
No matter what you choose to see.

Forget your lies, your secrets too
Think not of what you should now do
I’ll find them all, and thus show you
How many lives you have gone through

The question is not ‘how’ but ‘why’
As inspiration’s cue is tied –
A dead-end that dares your soul to sigh
Regretting unspoken goodbyes

I will keep this rock upon my back
Until I bend, until I crack
And heaven’s hell sticks its thumbtack
On my soul’s map, that which I lack.

Confront me not with broken sceptors
Artifacts of genius jesters
I am but contrast’s thought compressor
A final thought: failure’s re-dresser.

~ by cptgibbs on July 12, 2010.

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