Salvation Flees Like Sifting Sand

Salvation Flees Like Sifting Sand

A Poem by Max Meunier

through my observations fervid
the thought of what is self, compels me

am i as the earthen canvas
ever to absorb my calling

or is my state a fate of consciousness
adhering to anhedonic ends

whence does our heart hold origin

if i seek to find the truth inside 
would it not exist outside of me

without flesh stretched to keep my bones
would label fit amalgamation

is our impetus instilled 
from catching father's hastened rage
or swift sword of abandon

or mother's muted machinations
left to linger long

for what is known we are as errant
atoms auspiciously aligned
binding us to bounded prisons
never to ring freedom's bell

all i see is made of mystery unfolding
in untold shadows haunting on the darkest hour of nightfall


the fear of truths we may well find
affords us our affliction

through silent voids between my fingers
salvation flees like sifting sand

© 2016 Max Meunier


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The hope for delivrance and the fear of truth were both very well-described; your words emanated angst and despair with such potency to the extent that I felt slightly disconcerted. That was a great piece.

Posted 2 Years Ago



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Added on October 10, 2016
Last Updated on October 10, 2016
Tags: max, meunier, poetry, existence, observation, entropy, introspection, humanity, life, death