Waiting Mode

January 27, 2017

Life in a sad and waiting mode for life to cease

Thing with a watch to keep and time to crease

Tired of the old defects one should police

To hold one’s own

Has piled on years, its outlook like a heavy steel

Heart-sinker which details one’s final bed

Weary and half enamoured of its fearful dread

Although alone

The face oblivion beckons, speaks you soberly

One’s hopes a flutter fondly on ‘perhaps’

Yet even oblivion welcomes in adversity

Even attracts

Heart’s wandering fluctuations play so prettily

Now here now there as situations gray

Without an instrumental equanimity

From day to day

Rumours, bad deeds, of wars fulfil the palate

Big meaty cuts, succulent joints, carved-up

Servings of somethings happening debilitating grace

And going unheeded

Maybe the endtimes locally their bells toll just for me

Though that these peals also forecast a general demise

Alongst my thoughts; ’lest thoughts present to me contrary lies

As mockers

I do not want to live among the pain and so discover

Amain whether by prophesy or weariness do I

See good things dwindling slowly sliding by design

And peace go under

What’s left of civil civilisation, wherefore on what rack

Must ruinous desires of brutal tempers tear us up?

Crude in their defamations, following-through with vicious smack

Of barbarous marks

Offloading ugly actions upon homeless gathered here

Bestowing heartless straits upon an overburdened poor

Their posturings are bearings of a preened inflated air

One against another

Only what’s holy stands; this can withstand whatever

High flourishes the evil dwellers love to promenade

Placed in high places their blinded antinomies:

Pray God shall clear.

You can also find this poem at our steemit blog.