Restoration

Forgive me for those foolish thoughts-
Ideas which leave me paralyzed

Forget all of my broken faults
that come and steal away my time

Conceal me from temptation’s taunts
or guide me though it’s mines

Then find me if at last I fall-
Restore my soul and mind.

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After the Fall

Or
The Cursed Height

Once again I feel compelled to offer a bit of an introduction to my next poem. Often I relish the opportunity of leaving my work for others to wonder at the meaning behind. Irregardless of its reality. (Whether that be a blessing or a curse I cannot say.) However the post today is one I believe many (if not most) of my readers can relate to. Therefore I have concluded that explaining its meaning may allow a greater general appreciation of it. Included here is a caveat though- If you would like to try and discern the meaning prior to my explanation stop reading this introduction until you have finished the poem and come to your own conclusion. Then return here to either validate, or negate your position. Also if you find that the mindset this work evokes is one far different than what I have put forth in my explanation sound off in the comments so I can see what you’ve discovered!

As you can see above I was not fully convinced in my own mind when titling this work. I feel that After the Fall in a grander fashion sums up the ideology behind its conception, but then The Cursed Height focuses more upon the object of our characters trial. Regardless of this triviality, however, I’m hoping this poem will bring to mind the embodiment of the idea I was trying to capture.
It’s that moment right before success. You are just a few steps shy of your goal when everything falls to pieces, and you find yourself at the bottom looking up again on the same mountainous climb you just traversed. A few seconds to the finish line and you fall… You have to begin all over in what oftentimes seem like a vicious repetitive cycle. Much like our character here who finds himself (again) on the bottom.

Its cold, harsh, discouraging, and demoralizing. To come so close only to be sent back down that same slope with no other option but attempting the climb again.
Nevertheless it is a reality far too many of us encounter on a daily basis. Take heart. Get up and climb! We’ve all been there. We all ARE there.

With that said please enjoy:

~ After the Fall ~

He picks himself up off the ground
then lifts his eyes and looks around.
Once again below the rim
Once again all hope has dimmed.

Then stepping out he moves towards
that treacherous slope, that deadly form
before his knees both buckle down
beneath the weight but not a sound
escapes into the sultry air
no curse erupts- he hardly cares.

For of that fire he once bore
to vanquish foes and win all wars
resides naught but a sputtering flame
a shadow of its former blaze.

Barely finding strength to stand
he looks up reaching out his hand
to shield his eyes and shade his sight
to view the towering, cursed height.

Then a fury in him swells
as he gazes upon the fells
and rushing with a vengeful stride
he clambers and begins to climb!
The devil will not hold him back
he’ll conquer this demon at last!

So furious is his upward flight
that quickly he forgets his plight
of that abyss now far below
and all the horrors he has known.

But alas no sooner than that flame
of hope within begins to blaze
when naught but some odd feet remain
of this cursed beast he yearns to slay
the rocks that hold him up give way
and tumbling down the slope he lays.

And for a moment all is still.
Is there yet a spark of will?
Then slowly rising from the ground
he lifts his eyes and looks around.

The Wanderers Place

Far across the distant plains
beyond the treacherous mountainous range
a quiet and peaceful cabin of lore
stands lonely and silent next to a ford

There is no hurry along this lane
although the scene appears quite strange
when stretching upon its own solemn shore
are the thoughts of the wanderer that went before.

There lies not here some filthy stain
no hidden plague – No, nothing’s changed
It’s kept a treasure for he who’s torn
a place of refuge set before he’s born.

Though kept away from every pain
this place of solace does not arrange
the ones for whom its treasure’s poured
-that’s kept for the wanderer that went before.