Views Of A Brooding Mind Poem by Troy Clark And Neal Simons

Alone, I sit and brood
On the miseries of all life
As it passes by
Like a blowing wind,
Leaving me behind
To brood even more
From its passing.
I think of the ravens
As they fly within
The blowing wind
With wings as black as night,
Squawking the verses
Of man's sorrow,
Only to be drowned out
By the roaring
Of the ignorant wind.
I then think of water
So clean and pure,
Nourishing my life
As a thick coarse blood
That prolongs my misery
On this wretched world.
I think of the light of day
As it shines
Over the horizon,
Burning my flesh
And blinding my eyes,
Every day it brings
A curse brought upon me.
And then I try
To think to myself
That life is just an ugly stage
For the blossoming
Of the black rose
That is death,
But I know well enough
That is not true.
For as we slip away
From the miseries of life
Our souls are weakened
By the process,
Our senses dulled
To the point
Where there is only nothing,
Nothing to be seen
But our own figure
And nothing to be heard
But our eternal weeping
Echoing in the blackness.