New are my eyes from sleep or tear-laved sorrow,
Awaiting a transient Tomorrow and Tomorrow.
I am reconciled to being just a nameless cog,
But hope that dream or trance allows a monologue.
What is the earthly use,
When we already know the news
Before it happens in our bog?
New are my eyes from sleep or tear-laved sorrow, Awaiting a transient Tomorrow and Tomorrow. - - - - - - -An amazing write, thanks for sharing.
Thanks for your generous comment. I have also written about 'communing with oneself. Is it a self-centred solilioquy or a dialogue? Best wishes, AM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The speaker of this poem directly confronts the failure of their dreams to become realities. And nothing seems to last long enough to be. The mood is despair, but not completely. Your prose comment explains this, especially the last sentence, which is an amazing insight. Why not incorporate that insight into your poem through imagery? ?