BACK TO DUST by Venj Oclaret A host of sullen skies welcome my swollen eyes, Hoisted on gloomy air, I feel like a moth or a fly; The mists of yesterday taste like teardrops left to dry— Today, it seems brief happy hours shall never pass me by. I thought I could heave the darkness and turn it aside ‘Cause I desire to paint the rainbow and burst showers of absolute delight; However I try though, the dismal truth can’t be disguised: Mine is a loose heart brought out from the foulest mire. I am a gem and a treasure, a pool of wise men claims; I own the world, it revolves just for me— how fool I am, it never sounded lame! And yet in the secret place, I am made known who I am today; A scum of the earth – a hodgepodge of filth and ashes turned to clay. The truth of this nothingness has my existence tried to define, The returning discontentment is but part of the natural design; For the heart is built with emptiness and flaws nothing here can ever satisfy, Perhaps, it’s the Maker’s way so we could go back and look up to the North Sky. I wonder ‘til when this jar of clay would last the heat of the sun, the strength of the crash, And how long could it bear to endure the weight of water or wine with its cracks; Will the show of beauty and superb art remain when it has fallen apart? Will anyone love or take pride in him when he’s weathered back to dust?
Posted on: Sat, 27 Dec 2014 10:46:41 +0000
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