The Fogged Lament Of A Broken Soul Poem by Milan Van Zuyen

Puff puff on the shimmering bit
A cloud of thick fragrant smoke
I ponder the life's mysteries as i sit
Even as I imbibe a hearty toke

My smoke ring is slowly fading
Into the thick growing cloud
How long have I been waiting
Still feeling lost in a crowd

I have no bite, I have no sting
Powerless and weak-I stand alone
My voice rising in a crescendo-I sing
For all my faults I would atone

If only my penance is not yet too late
Will no one grant me absolution
Prefering to leave me to my fate
To suffer in abject contrition

No. No one is coming to lessen my woes
I have failed the one dearest to me
Heavy is my heart, which scarcely shows
How my sorrow feels as deep as the sea