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david mungoshi Mar 2016
this is where it was always leading
this parting of the ways, this fleeing
from the sore shots of life's arrows
it was always coming, this pulling
asunder in the glow of a last twilight
so fare thee well my friend and foe
you who slew my hopes and dreams
and made sure there were no streams
to cool my burning soul and quench
this horrible thirst that still persists
i hunger for the warmth you exuded
and thirst for that temperate streak in you,
a virtue now so rare and dear in this world
most are well-schooled in shameless artifice
so here now i sit in this elevated oblivion
watching you melt into the unkind distance
fare thee well, my spring and my nemesis
i shall in time learn to want nothing gone
I have fine-tuned this poem and I feel that it's now tighter and much closer to what I want. There is a sense in which in all true art we always fall short of the target, the more to strive, therefore.

— The End —