Twilight Time Poem by Shannon Walker
Twilight Time
Beat your fevered wings blackbird,
Ravin, not by choice or birth, blackened;
Not by fire, or ruddy flame,
Have you come oh ancient minister
To light upon this calloused hand.
Demon, if demon you are;
Lightning strike, black on white,
And red on black.
The days contend with one another,
As dreams do, struggling to survive
This comic interlude, a carnival
Of monotony and despair,
Between the two,
And you come, light, and stare.
Yet, what could you do?
You're just like me, a mist,
A vapor if you will.
Am I to tremble in fear?
Fear what?
Old magicians never die;
They just reappear.
Yet, what could you do? You're just like me, a mist, A vapor if you will. Am I to tremble in fear? Fear what? Old magicians never die; They just reappear... soul is immortal and it never die. A poem on philosophical base has been nicely and deeply painted. Thanks a lot.
Wow! ! ! ! ! A Very Deep And Powerful Poem! ! ! ! ! Much Beauty In These Mysterious Thoughts Shown! ! ! ! ! Thank You So Much For Sharing This! ! ! ! ! Many 10S! ! ! ! ! +++++
Loved the ending! Will our memories haunt us in the grave? Have we been here before? I agree with your response to Robert's comment. Memories are like vapors.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 5:59:48 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Thank you! Your poem give us a beautiful picture about light, lightning, dream.