The wheel of life
Morning,dreamt of sweet dreams broken
to look with eyes half open
astir upon daylight first shining
foundered silences, the sounds of the world turning.
The blank amazement that is the the wheel of life
motionless now, standing still, barely alive
to kindle anew, like a small child
to erupt in anger, and conflagrate wild.
Life, running here a little strayed
to pass, never getting there
to heave and toil, but always behind
groping in the light, with eyes that are blind.
Life, on a wheel that seldom stops
to wonder, a cruel purpose that grew on top
a consent of things always to be found
and the wheel keep going round…
and round and round and round
seldom stopping…
If you like this post, why not read these other stories as well. They 're randomly generated though :)
- Poetry Thursday - Let Us Sleep Now
- The Melancholy of Me, Part 1…
- Happy Birthday, Marzie
- My Imaginary Life
- Sunday Scribblings: Goosebumps.
- A Poem for Mariuca.
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I like this poem. Nicely written from multiple layered perspectives probably subconsciously. Very artistic positive poetry. Nice job.
Thank you.