The magic is gone
The song is done
I am as old as
the world is cold
and greyness and
shadow pursue me
wherever I go
All warmth has flown
The sun is down
I am not wooden,
nor made of stone
- a wounded animal,
flesh and bone;
and wrought of such,
I feel the pain of the
lance and the twist of
the blade once again
My life runs before me
and I, out of breath,
am trying to catch it
before it is spent
Too cold
Too dark
Too empty
Too late...
And as the last light
fades from my eyes
and my time on this
earth is all but done...
I cry out to you from
the depths of my soul
but you hear me not,
for the magic is gone
Fantastic poem, good flow and imagery, I enjoyed reading this very much, will read again and again. thanks for sharing Michael
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Marvelous! I give 10. [My life runs before me and I, out of breath, am trying to catch it before it is spent Too cold Too dark Too empty Too late...]