Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Thy Swain (No longer)

Back again they flood the brain,
That irrepressible running train,
Cold ice flush down that tunnel of vein,
Harshly thrust out of shade and into the lashing rain...


Now seeable, the break cleaner than mere sprain,
In tow, escort of raw, unblemished pain,
The quiet gnash of strength show, prevarications and feign,
Where all that's left inside is fragments barely sane...

Days go forth and ebb down the drain,
Faith recedes till no more than a specter of grain,
It dawns, settles to rest on the still murky plain,
No longer am I thy swain...