Chris Prosser


Heart - Poem by Chris Prosser

My tortured heart can feel no more
behind thick walls of glass.
It seems one wound too many tore
and ripped this tattered mass,

Until with fear its cringing core
crept down into the floor
To find some safety evermore
which bah! would not endure.

So now alone, afraid, unsure
my heart sits in its cell.
Waiting for a coming cure
to sound the freedom bell.

But I am blind and deaf for sure
and goodness I can't tell,
So when it comes I might ignore
and stay locked in this hell.

It seems I don't know what is good
or what will set me free
And soon I forget where I stood
and how things used to be.

My yearning is not satisfied,
and croaking in the mire
There lurks a beast of lust and pride
and lovely death desire.

Alas, the time has come once more
now do I stay or go?
This place of evil things of lore
has become all I know.

This game will be the end of us,
for as long as we play
We sell our souls back into dust
and act content that way.

The world is full of emptiness,
these streets are full of cries
And houses full of loneliness
illuminate our lies.

What is the price of happiness?
What would you pay for smiles?
What would you give for peace and faith
and joy through all your trials?

Myself, I give it all away
to see what I can find
Because this worldly, nauseous sway
destroys my weary mind.

Instead I live for love and see
there is a better way to be,
that all that joy from pleasing me
was lonely, cold, and hardly free

Compared to keeping those in mind
who have no pleasure left to find
And who feel darkness wrap and bind
their souls up just like mine.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, August 15, 2010

Poem Edited: Wednesday, August 18, 2010


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