Conflicted

The loudest silence I have ever heard,

and dark, so black I hardly see the night.

No moon, and just a smattering of stars

whose ghostly glimmer casts a shimmered shade

among the trees, where night-birds sound their cry.

A rustle in the ferns belies the breeze

that barely moves the leaves, and signals prey

that prey themselves, and so the chain endures.

 

For I, who spurn the ordered realm of sleep

in unaccustomed outdoor habitat,

am curious what unseen world surrounds

me here, and where in it my place may be.

Should this be home, this strange and foreign land,

without those creature comforts far away,

or have we now evolved beyond this life,

where different rules and synergies prevail?

 

I stand, conflicted, lost in waking dreams

that only bring more questions, no release.

blank verse

◄ Fading

Grammar-Nazi ►

Comments

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Don Matthews

Wed 18th Sep 2019 08:12

Very good Trevor....

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Brian Maryon

Wed 18th Sep 2019 07:08

Different format for you Trev, but still quality.

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