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A Torrid Void

The elation of curious feeling,
Certainly left me double-reeling.
Finally grasping that message sent
By so many, at last I knew it meant:
It made breathing more than to survive,
It was to be, exist, enjoy - alive.

And yet it's like an eville curse,
To make the whole thing even worse.
For every up it's double low,
For every good, a harder blow.
Because this is severely blighted,
A futile exercise, damned unrequited.

So back forever, there I sit.
In that wretched woebegone pit.
Hope and good unemployed,
Nothing to fill a torrid void.
The barren solitude so great to fear,
Causes pain so copiously severe.

I kid myself that it never mattered,
But the crux of my being is shattered.
I am so cruelly blighted,
Damn you fucking unrequited.

Comments

mpathy said…
i just read this poem again and was floored at the devastating imagery. this really is an excellent work; one of your best
9 September 2009 at 18:00
Sian said…
Thanks M. x
11 September 2009 at 06:56
Jose said…
I utterly love this poem. Like mpathy, I find the imagery powerful and brutal, and the aftermath haunting and desolate.

Your skill with words continues to astonish me. Superb.
12 October 2009 at 10:47
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