Of the deep disquiet am I enslaved
Of passions turned and twisted
Of frail and fickle sensations
Of dire distress promising peace
Of an endless litany of loves unknown
Of faces bestowing rescinded bounty
Of beauty as burdensome as mass
Of brightly flashing eyes swallowed by shadow
Of honors hoped in discarded heaps
Of battles cried yet endlessly unheard
Of every means of concealing the crisis
Of casks of wine and clouds of smoke
Of a life drifting away before being lived
Wrapped around a heart ever ready for battle
Left unshielded, torn to shreds
About the Creator
Nick Jameson
Of the philosopher-poet mold, though I'm resistant to molds. I'm a strongly spiritual philosophical writer and progressive ideologue. I write across genres, including fiction, non-fiction and poetry. Please see my website infiniteofone.com.
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