The night is a deep well:
stalks fall and echoes resound
as if out of an abyss.
Flash a lamp in, lose the light.
Braveheart awake in the late hour,
is there a solution to anything?
Events unfold; Always unplanned.
Reason an afterthought.
Still we dream. Dreams dreamed
all night, for a newer dawn.
To achieve something, something
that can make me more than you.
Are you cut out for that yarn yard?
Who decides when
a weakling mortal
breaks out of fatal space?
Flash a lamp in, lose the light!
Stalks fall and echoes resound
as if out of an abyss.
The night is a deep well.
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 9:34 AM UTC
The night is a deep well:
stalks fall and echoes resound
as if out of an abyss.
Flash a lamp in, lose the light.
Braveheart awake in the late hour,
is there a solution to anything?
Events unfold; Always unplanned.
Reason an afterthought.
Still we dream. Dreams dreamed
all night, for a newer dawn.
To achieve something, something
that can make me more than you.
Are you cut out for that yarn yard?
Who decides when
a weakling mortal
breaks out of fatal space?
Flash a lamp in, lose the light!
Stalks fall and echoes resound
as if out of an abyss.
The night is a deep well.
Some reflections on destiny vs. willed action...
I coined the phrase 'that yarn yard' for this poem - just now searched online, but found only one other instance of the use of 'yarn yard' here: http://www.theyarnyard.co.uk/ !
