Haunted

Beyond the doors of choices made

Those which haunt us through our days

All of laughter fades away

As the tears of yesterday

Spring anew and bloom again

Like those untimely deeds of men

Lacking consequence are splayed;

Life in fullness is disdained.

– – – – – –

The tragedy is all remain

Bound by cords made of the same

Decisions past those of today

Even so while passing blame

For what was done before the chains

And all the choices never made;

As an Adam, Eve they blame

Ignorance their sole refrain.

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Musings of My Mind

There are two (2) distinct breaks in cadence for the following poem, dear reader. Kindly pay heed and take your time when reading, even as I submit that you’ll likely not understand the nature of what it is you read. However may the provocative wording be enough in this verse to amuse you… If nothing else

-E.L

~ Musings of my Mind ~

Here we are again my friend to all the world unknown

Tears have no place in our hearts for they’ve nowhere to go.

We care not if you understand or clarify our words

You’ve dared not show your hand nor faced the horrors we have known.

At some far distant future time when we at last are grown

This time will seem as nothing more than seeds unwitting sowed.

Your vengeful gaze and broken pride have given life their turn

But you’ve no answer to the lies that whispered when we heard–

“Go far but fail not

To admit your wrong.

Give way but faint not

Ever be you strong.

Each day you praise not

The Maker of it all

Dreams that you dream not

Will force you to fall.”

So question my motives, give place to your fears.

And I bet you’ll question the reason I’m here

But venture to walk a few days in my shoes

And you will see truth is not solely in you.

In the Night

We did not think the Tempters words
were true when we complied
but after years of being spurned
by those embalmed in light
the ever-present off’ring
of the one who trades in lies
became a salve for suff’ring
when we fled into the night.

Do not believe we fail to grasp
this deadly game we play
and ’tis true that we never asked
for you to ease our pain.
But sometimes those whose torch burns fast
and yields the brightest flame
are those who live behind a mask
of bitterness and shame.

Don’t blame yourself for tragedy
happens to every life
but on occasion those like me
admit we’ve lost the fight.
The scales of justice have indeed
become a ghastly sight
but we all know it’s just the fee
for living in the night.

A Tragic Tale

She cried for her brother
as he journeyed beyond
the peaks of the mountains
in search of a song

She asked of her mother
if it would be long
before the night tempest
turned into the dawn

She begged of her father
“Oh, let me I pray
venture out searching
I’ll find my own way.”

She called for her lover
“Come take me away
for I’ve lost the reasons
that force me to stay.”

She fled to the city
such exciting sights
no thoughts of the future
she lived for the night

Until came a moment
when dark pleasures bite
demanded a payment
in exchange for a life.

She turned to a bottle
so no one would hear
the sounds of her crying
her shedding of tears

She thought of the Preacher
after many years
and hope of procuring
a peace from her fears.

But instead she took potions
and pills of a kind
that take away notions
and thoughts about time.

And wasted and ravished
frightened and alone
she fell to sins cycle
hopeless and unknown.

Without a Chance

There’s an old, old story
that I once read
tells the tale of a peasant
and the deeds that he did

First at the beginning
though, I must commence
lest you understand not
where I’m going hence.

This story begins
with a king grown old
who had not an heir
to bequeath his gold

Save only a daughter
a damsel so fair
that the nobles for miles
would stop and stare

But the king in his wisdom
understood that their stares
though simple and subtle
indicated that their

Love for his daughter
was for the beauty she bare
and not for her person
her health and welfare.

But alas though this king
of this truth understood
yet still he retained
no thought of what should

Be done to bequeath
his fortune of gold
or how to find one worthy
of his riches untold?

And so he devised
a plan so bold
that only the bravest
would care to be told.

He locked up his daughter
in a tower so high
with ice like a mountain
sloping on all sides.

Sealed up with his daughter
were three apples of gold
the value of one which
could not be told.

Then the instructions
to all men were told
the rich and the poor
the young and the old

“Whomever among you
my daughter can free
by climbing this ice
while riding his steed

And bring to my palace
the apples she bares
He’ll then be my son
the prince and my heir.”

Thus with fortunes awaiting
only to be claimed
there came such a crowd
that could countless be named

Of kings, and of nobles,
princes riding steeds
the finest of which
poor men only dream.

They all came together
to lay claim to the prize
to prove they were worthy
of the benevolent eye.

But alas to the king’s
very grave dismay
not a man could be found
to succeed that day.

That day turned too many-
and then many weeks
no one had come close
to reaching the peak.

As weeks turned to months
and months turned to years
the nobles forgot
of the beauty so clear

That shone from a damsel,
who sat locked away
in a tower of ice,
whom no one could claim.

But the princess still stayed
all alone in her tower
with three apples of gold
three tokens of power.

Now to that peasant
where my rhyme had begun
you knew I would get there
before we were done-

He worked in the fields
bringing hay and straw
to feed all the horses
both great ones and small.

He knew of this legend
of this damsel so fair-
but it really was not
of that which he cared.

For this peasant saw
a woman indeed
a prisoner who needed
at last to be freed!

But to be released
one man had to climb
not only once-
but at least three times!

And though this he wished for
he knew he could not
for he had no steed
and knew none could be bought

That would ever be able
to that height attain
for horses were simply
not built to maintain

The level of strength
he’d assuredly need
if he were to ever
gain the damsel’s release.

But then something happened
while he worked one night
when a lightning bolt shattered
leaving quite a sight.

A horse dressed in bronze
the sound of whose neigh
was the sound of a power
that was not human made.

On this sight he pondered
for whom could this be?
And who was it who granted
such a stout noble steed?

And truth is the answer
to that question’s unknown
and he marked it down
to the fairies alone.

So up on his back
this peasant did ride
wearing the bronze armor
that had come alongside.

He raced between crowds
to the great icy slopes
and began to climb them
as the king had long hoped.

His steed dug his hooves
using all his strength
carving a passage
a third of the way.

But he could continue
up no more that way
and turning around
he left off for the day.

But before his returning
brought him to the ground
the damsel above him
tossed an apple on down.

And holding his prize
which he’d won that day
he wielded his steed
and galloped away.

*** *** *** *** ***

My conclusion is brief
yes returning next day
the peasant climbed higher
earning two of three

Then once more enduring
he claimed apple three
by reaching the top
and at last she was free.

The king knew his promise
and made him his heir
for no other was worthy
who conquered his dare.

But now hear my question
of you I will ask
what if the damsel
was not in distress?

Would the peasant still climb
for three apples to gain?
Surely one was enough
for it was priceless in trade.

But alas even that
is not the question I fear.
For three golden apples
he could never have neared

Save for some fairy mother
who granted a steed
a horse like no other
to accomplish the deed.

Why then the bother
of trying to earn
what only can come
if you’re granted a turn?

A turn that if gained
like the peasant you’ll be
ready and able
to accomplish the deed-

For what of those others
those from far and wide
were none of them worthy
to be granted a try?

Or is fate simply laughing
at all those who yearn
to be something more-
With no chance if no turn.