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sean-yessayanPoems
Three years now I have followed the path in which You've set. Great milestones have been met but the anchor's chain still drops. The year before last, challenges were external. At a time, post-vernal, the flood began, sans-ark. Simple words assailed in waves, ignored through red-skied mornings. Ignominy aborning, through lovely scornings, a reflective pool showed the two visibles. My path had grown dark between lamposts the distances grew with self isolation. Without light, advances cause irritation-- with light I can see my fright. To all I've hurt, and for all it's worth, my robbery of mirth requires penance. This pen knots the future, a copy to be sent in turn, for my lost friends to learn the pain one wields with a pen.
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Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
Your Fruit Leaves Me Here
Three years now I have followed the path in which You've set. Great milestones have been met but the anchor's chain still drops. The year before last, challenges were external. At a time, post-vernal, the flood began, sans-ark. Simple words assailed in waves, ignored through red-skied mornings. Ignominy aborning, through lovely scornings, a reflective pool showed the two visibles. My path had grown dark between lamposts the distances grew with self isolation. Without light, advances cause irritation-- with light I can see my fright. To all I've hurt, and for all it's worth, my robbery of mirth requires penance. This pen knots the future, a copy to be sent in turn, for my lost friends to learn the pain one wields with a pen.
A continuation of Your Boat has Driven Me Here and Your Pen has Written Me Here
sean-yessayan
Written by
sean-yessayan
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
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