I walk through my dream
Or is that a nightmare.....
I've walked long on tired feet
Fighting pain, fighting despair
The edges begin to blur,
The ends unclear.
My friend, he says, ask the sky
But the sky doesn't reason why
The hearts, they're wells of duplicity
The closest, they're spouting hypocrisy
But even if it makes my heart sing
Falsity, it's certainly not my thing.
I am the arrow, out on its straight
Unstoppable, till the goal is reached
It matters not if friends become foes
It matters not if my crimson bleeds.
I live for the moondrops to decorate my soul
For the dews of enchantment to write my scroll
But I won't sell my conscience, my integrity,
For a few drops of your fickle felicity.
Touch me not with your cheat sheet
None walks through my life with muddy feet.
© Manic Sylph 2015
YOU ARE READING
Drops In My Ocean
PoetryThe rapturous drops of my heart fall as poetry into the ocean of my infinite soul. I gather my ocean into each drop, to quench the thirst of questing spirits that wander into my world....
