That One Day Will Not Come Poem by Jeprox G. Lingamen

i will find out
that the wind does not listen
the moon doesn't really give a damn
the stars deceive

all i've known
all my life

the songs that roused me from the dead
the dreams i've kept
the tears i've shed

the wonder of everything
falling into the sky

all that is Everything
is a Lie

told to myself
by myself
told by those who couldn't help
playing along with the way things are

i'll reach that far
and find out

there's no beauty
no madness in living
and people are just hollow bodies
being filled with Pain
'til they're full enough
to be swallowed by Darkness
and digested into the Unknown

i shall have known

that children will remain to be children
only older and worn
miracles gone awry
waiting in vain
for that one day that will not come

it will not come

in the noise of tens of thousand chariots of fire
in the chorus of all mourning mothers so dire
i'll find myself in silence

bereft of poetry to bleed
too proud to pray
too hurt to plead

finding my way
through the maze of my heart
where all this starts
where all this is made up and believed
where all this must be renounced

i will find out

that the days coming to life then dying
will give me nothing but Space
in which to lose myself

and Time to make me resentful
of counting the days
coming to life then dying

or the nights leaving
as soon as i get used to them

a victim of their whim
vengeful and mad
a promise gone bad

for that one day will not come
it will not come

and you as well

you won't be there
to sit with me
in the sunset of my dreams

you'll be somewhere else
worshiping the same
eternal sunrise
holding it close
when it can burn no more
when it has reached its final score

i'll be here
reading this
absorbed by how starkly the words burn
across the void which is all we ever had
all that we'll ever be

because that one day will not come
that day will not come
that day will not come

it will not

it is nothing but the illusion
of that one day when
everything will rise after The Fall

all that bull

all i know is
there will be me

empty of Hate
tainted no more with Love

unburdened by bliss
which is not mine to make
unnamed by some God
who is mine to forsake

neither disowned by Heaven
nor claimed by Hell

never needing to tell
the difference between

rising and falling
living and being alive
loving and not hoping at all

or recall the essence of you trapped
in the now closed spaces of my soul

ever whole
in the brokenness of what
i can never truly be

(Sunday, April 12,2009)