Constrast and Counterpoint

Across the lake, the crying of the birds
Within my head, the emptiness of words

The winter with it’s promise soon to come
The lonely cold inside that leaves me numb

The sunrise spilling truth for those who see
The darkness of my own hypocrisy

The world is glory, magic and surprise
And I’m no one I even recognize

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s