Christopher Stewart's Blog: Scribo - Posts Tagged "writing"

tell me when are these times that i have dreams about
are they mere memories of better days gone by
unsubstantial fancies fated to fade away
or horizons waiting to be arisen to ?

and the fire i felt when this hope was brand new
when not even Everest could have kept me from you
has it burned its brightest or just given a hint
does it smolder for chance or consume its last fuel ?

and the bridge you promised would serve as my footing
had i strayed from the path or was my step unsure
perchance that fall was meant to complete my healing
so i’d see for myself what my strength could endure ?

weren’t you the blue bird that had awaken me
as i laid in the cold suffering of torment
sung me out of starving, loathing and lethargy
invited me to rise and resume my ascent ?

as i now look forward to more of your magic
contemplating what so far had kept me bemused
just ahead are the times i have dreamt ecstatic
i see the horizons and i am reinfused

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we were on the run
always on the run
aiming for the dream
gliding on a moonbeam

we were struggling
so rarely settling
yet always managing
escapes amazing

and as the clock would tick
the devil tried his trick
and weary of the wire
we warmed up to the fire

we were born seekers
spirit explorers
our skills were untried
our powers unverified

we gave it all we got
to uncover the plot
was contentment for us
what could we do but trust

and as the clock would tick
the devil tried his trick
and weary of the wire
we warmed up to the fire

now further down the road
somewhere past the abode
still carrying the load
under threat of the goad

there are so many signs
and slaps when we cross the lines
this has to be the way
that leads out of yesterday

and as a clock that ticks
the devil tries his tricks
and weary of the wire
we warm up to the fire

but the poets must write
the words that shape the worlds
create something to give
a better way to live

all the people we meet
on the run
will i see you again
when we're done

all the moments that fleet
on the run
we will deserve our time
in the sun

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should you ever o my darling
hear that i am forever gone
do not be vainly pondering
that you will miss our liaison

for upon you i lay no blame
not knowing who i'd come to be
when before you i make the claim
never will you truly miss me

unsettled by futures unclear
withheld by self-worth glaucoma
encircled by vultures of fear
brooded over childhood trauma

peering beyond self-sabotage
commonplaces and convention
is the end goal only mirage
figment of imagination

experiences recurring
will the lesson ever be learned
is cyclic healing occurring
will the sound me ever be earned

restricted by the rules of men
and harnessed by the hands of fate
never skating time and again
fully free from that figure-eight

somebody else i must have been
all this time i could not be me
whose whole story was just a scene
of mistaken identity

so if i state o my darling
that you'll never truly miss me
don't resent me for the saying
nor do refuse its verity

but trust that time delivers cures
that diseased eyes can come to see
that it was through no fault of yours
that never was i fully me

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