Tuesday, December 07, 2004


I will not, cannot, must not pursue my dream
But crush any bliss I would have
And hide my light under bushel, within dark closet
Beneath ignoble rock

Not for me a pursuit of legend, joy, and great stature
Rather, in gloom of day, I plod the drudgery road
No star to guide, no ship to return
As none was put out to sea

Yea, I fear of death, simple evil
And the unseen power of an unglimpsed future
I revile these gifts wrapped within
Have contempt for talents that lie undisturbed
Yet ask no grant or favor to break the chains in me

So, keep this fold upon mine eye
That I not see through disquieting fog
Ray no light to reach my skin
Nor allow me view the moon of aspiration

I clutch my cloak of dark despair
Muse be gone from me
When Time is come to loose my mortal illusion
I dread to meet feared fire

Yet let it come while I am unready

Ron Eklof (c) 2002

No comments: