In The Cradle Of The Minotaur Poem by Thoughts of a Single Man

I thought I was born with the blood of the Spartan
that I was to wage war for the destiny of my lineage
that I had strength enough to battle proud
for my selected sliver of eternity's configured morals
until my plate was full by the meat of my own measure
yet silently I lay
in the waters of my grieving angst
befuddled in the muddy puddles of my own design
as I still bow my head and give thanks
that I am blessed with the breath of the living
as I pause hammered by the deafening thunder
of my own inaudible screams
too weak to commence another fruitless journey
in the legacy of my withering theories
the path once seemed so clear to me
my fate to be shaped by the mold of my own hand
such grand and noble plans
torn from me by my own infantile choices
as I listened to the voices of the false
rather the one that resides within my calm
I am trapped now
as I desperately attempt
to navigate the maze of my future
but each turn brings me to the dead of an end
and I forced to begin once again
from the line of the initial start
recalling the precise moment
I first heard the destruction
of my once healthy and hopeful heart
all I ever had were my words and my art
so sure that that would be enough to guide me
through the strangling webs of realities labyrinth
but life at times greets you openly in the day
with the singing smile of the wicked
leaving me broken and cringing
at the gaze of your own visions
and brands you as the inherently damned
years fading from my recollection
as if the embers of my memory
were lost in the sifting ash of a dying flame
who shall remember my name
for what I have done
rather than what I have become
tarnishing the flowers in the field of the final son
the vaunted chose one
that bled icy trickles formed in the frost
of a frigid thumping mass
so many questions long forgotten
for they are no longer asked
time slips by quickly now
when it used to move so slowly
I am the famous nameless wanderer
lost in a city of a thousand strangers
faces where no one seems to know me
each step tipping the scales of my relentless pass
toppling the precious chalice of my dreams
shattering the cherished glass
as the spirit of my tears still pours
and the echos of my salvation
becomes distant whispers
when once they used to roar
and the road ahead of me becomes an endless floor
as I am bound by my own fruition
in the palm of my own monster
cowering from the beast that roams within me
so afraid and so alone
shackled forever in these feet of kindred clay
that have become the harness of my tortured stone
unable to find my way home
and losing the once bright life of my life
as the sword of my resolution grows heavy
and I am stripped of my will to fight
praying I am not destined to eternally sleep
in the cradle of the Minotaur
as I relinquish the reams of my will to thee

Thoughts of a Single Man 2014 © tm