Friday, March 16, 2012

Winds of Sorrow

This poem is about looking towards the future and not knowing where I am going. Everything that was is no longer and I am stuck wondering where my soul is drifting.

Upon me stirs the winds of sorrows
gushing against my paling face,
everywhere with thrusts of thunder
blowing away my faith.

ritual drifts whisper through my body
to the heart of it's bristled limbs,
air splashed with velocity,
I feel the rushing wind.

Strive to find my shattered depths
amongst a hail of dust,
whirlpools spinning round and round
destroying the world I love.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
3-16-12

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