I came to disappear

Through wanderings of a hallowed heart.
That blesses the soil it treads upon.
Within it tolls a silent bell.
Which calls for time and distance.
And leave me not in that harried place.
Of ill begotten souls and woe.
That race about like dying rats.
And burn the imaginative pith to shadows.
We come alone, and all in pieces.
Figuring out where it all began.
I came out of the dark,
Yet too close to the sun.
Struggling to find a path.
Now watch me disappear.

27/05/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: dark, light, lostTags: art, darkness, death, disappear, dying, earth, journey, light, lost, path, poem, Poetry, shadows, siol, sun, time 2 Comments