Proverbial knife, stabbed at my heart Aim meant to strike true, ultimately missed This almost-death is the only thing That allows me to see what is real Again, and once more, I nearly destroy Not merely myself, but my life as well As I search for my need and carry out my quest My life’s path rests on the decisions I make Sometimes also, on the choices of those who surround me And the actions of many I have never known Death has not yet been met by me Though every day almost I wonder why not May my great and final adversary fear me Though I seldom know that I am one to be afraid of It is only in life altering times and their aftermath When I can acknowledge all I am capable of While I nearly collapse my world anew I reflect on this truth as I carry out My imperative journey On this perilous road disguised For many as mundane and is called life I am the murderer
Striking sorrow, eloquent flow... I hesitate to mention the next to last line; for a small wilting edge, on an otherwise perfect lilly, does not detract from its fragrance. *
saw on TV a dog who could smell cancer willing to wager it could smell a lily’s wilt (ante shiny e-penny on canine nasal cavities) does Superman have super scent, from the tropics can he smell a penguin pass gas? every day almost I wonder why not! tops, killer!
enjoyed this one much, and agree with Sylvan, there's a very sorrowful vibe to this, full of introspection... thanks for sharing, and welcome to the forums!
