Anxious Musings of the Immortal Mind...A Poem by Fritz O'Skennick
Anxious Musings of the Immortal Mind is an epic poem written in archaic english that expresses the burden of immortality & the need for peace of mind...
People understandeth not…
How couldst thou fathom
the divine intricacies of eternity
with a mortal?
I hath lived for so very long,
I am forsaken of rememberance
of more than thou
couldst ever know…
Yes… I am immortal…
Do not asketh of me to explain myself,
for quite simply, I cannot.
It wouldst be likened to thee
to tryeth explain
the extent of thine existence
to a crane fly.
In twelve blissful hours,
he shalt live a lifetime
beyond the confines
of his allotted time.
However, I shalt say,
it be not the notion of immortality
that thy literature and fictions
wouldst hath thee believe.
I dost live, I dost love, I doth age
and yet I findeth myself bound
to all manner of mortal wound.
When death’s hand is upon mine own,
my body returneth to a time of juvenal,
restored of youth and vigor
and so my cycle of life
begineth once more,
cursed by rememberance
of that which shouldst be lost.
I see’eth my loved ones pass
as I dost outlive them…
My children, for I hast fathered many
o’er centuries, live their lives
and turn to dust
‘neath trodden soil
in the natural course of time…
None yet inherit my traits
Nay, can they offer companionship
in the millennias to come…
Always it hurts,
but one dost learn’eth
to tolerate its bite in the jaws of eternity.
I hast learned to let go,
remember them with fondness
as they dost go gentle into that good night.
The circle of life dost continue unbroken,
except for me…
I hath even seen their fair souls
returneth to me
through the ages.
A smile, a nod, a look,
glimpses of recognition,
in forsaken memory.
I wouldst yarely embrace
their hearts in a beat
but for wimpled soul.
For how wouldst thou recant the ages
to one lost to time’s passing?
I hast fruitlessly sought
others likened to me,
that walketh in eternity
unbound of Reaper’s sway,
but alas there art none…
I hast sought out Judas the betrayer,
for scripture’s doctrine dost dictate
he shalt forever walk the Earth
in penance of his treachery.
He walketh not and I knoweth I am not he.
Methuselah, Tithonus, Vlad Tepes,
all men lost to myth and Chinese whispers
o’er centuries in the pages of eternity.
Such cruelty as thou couldst never know,
mine ancient eyes
doth grow weary in the light.
Such sorrow in my heart that sings
a mournful lullaby in a soft, gentle aria,
serenading a symphony of divine darkness
to an overture of eternal pilgrimage
empty to my fading élan vital.
I am so lost… Always looking behind
to find my way forward,
knowing I doth not belong
and I hath lived far too long,
yearning an end that cometh not.
I hast been crucified for heresy,
I hast been burned as a witch,
I hast been victim to many plagues,
wars, murder and suicide,
I hath even passed
to age and frailty many times.
But each time I doth rise
and it begin’eth again,
each time I doth hope
it shalt be the last.
I dost fear that I couldst outlive humanity,
that I shalt see beyond Man’s final breath,
when all I know is dust and bone
and life hast come to pass,
I shalt be truly alone…
And what of evolution?
Wouldst I be a curiosity
to Man’s successor?
And what of world’s end?
When Earth returneth to Sun’s abyss
and all I know is no more…
Shalt I be forever dieing?
I am so very, very tired…
© 2011 Fritz O'Skennick
Cardiff, Wales, United Kingdom
AboutHi there, I'm Fritz O'Skennick.. ...I love to write, when I'm not writing, I'm thinking about what to write next or I'm performing what I've already written, I write all sorts... Now availab.. more..