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A POEM UNENTITLED

已有 1560 次阅读 2015-4-16 10:25 |系统分类:诗词雅集

Unlike all nights before

At about 3 oclock in the morning I woke

I turned The gadget on the bed

Searching, with great hope

For what had been hovering

In my head

Yet nothing was there

And feeling lost, I, with my tired eye

Tempted to fall asleep again

Yet within an hour in vain

 

Unlike all nights before

At about 5 oclock in the morning I woke

With greater hope I looked for

For what I searched two hours before

Yet nothing came out

and sadness in me was to sprout

 

Unlike all days before

about 8 in the morning

I woke

And with the greatest hope I could muster

I searched for what I searched

my heart beating faster

Yet there was just void, just void

And despair I could not avoid

Hearing the moaning and screeching of hope

Being slaughtered, being dismembered, being destroyed!

 

The songs of birds outside

Which were so sweet, now, died

The shiny leaves of the trees

Which were so fresh, now freezed

The land somewhere that was fertile

Now became a desert, desolate, dry

 

Mud of moroseness

Dust of doubt

Sea of sorrow

flooded

My heart

 

And I, for the first time

Saw the loss of what I deemed as prime

Without warning

Without meaning

All of a sudden...

Enslaved was I to the state

Of being nothing

having nothing

expecting nothing...





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