Twelve Bar BluesA Poem by It Broke Me
Answeres without questions that should never be.
Parish light. Moonbeams that
cease to exist in reality, yet I
see them clearly. How can
that be if I am not here with
you? In thought only do these
colors flow, yet the music is
real, but then, no one can be
sure of anything. Only the
lies of he we refer to simply
as Him hold the truth of a
nature beyond this place:
this living hell of life before life;
death after the living of
our souls without the shells.
But I digress, or digest, from
the taste of the flesh of the weak
of mind and spirit. Only the
body goes, can fly within
and without the wings needed to
get out. To escape un-hurt;
un-affected by the colossal
waves of the invisible mass
of darkness that presses and
drowns us like the rats populating
the recesses of a dirty junkyard.
But isn’t that the point of all this;
to test the limits of one’s own
Aren’t we all designed and built
for the singular purpose of
searching for the answer of
what lies beyond the before time?
I can here them, lurking in the shadows.
I see, yet it all remains un-seen to me.
For I am blind, deaf and dumb.
Amazing Grace, indeed.
I remain. I live on.
© 2011 It Broke Me
It Broke Me
AboutSome of my stuff may not appeal to you and that's okay, it might be that none of my stuff is right for you and that’s fine too. I write for me and (if anyone enjoys my pieces) people with simila.. more..