The Swan’s Solitude
There is a swan dying
in a sewer,
and I am the sewer.
In my dreams, I am a gutter.
A swan is dying, hidden
and underground
In a gutter.
The sewer is overflowing
and a swan is dying.
In a sewer a swan
is dying,
in my dreams
in a gutter,
it dies with me.
I have no blood in these veins
but words that run as coarse
and dark as when they first
encounter arteries of secrets
that burst onto this page.
I like it! Such soul-shredding angst.
"The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its' own reason for existing." ~ Albert Einstein
"Remember, no matter where you go, there you are." Buckaroo Bonzai "Some people say I done alright for a girl." Melanie Safka
I love the strength your words seem to possess here. Terrible but powerful!
I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew.
Mesmerizing! Beautiful and mesmerizing.
I love the rhythm of this tragedy
Before sunlight can shine through a window, the blinds must be raised - American Proverb
the juxtaposition of swan and sewer is fresh and provocative.
"But do you really, seriously, Major Scobie," Dr. Sykes asked, "believe in hell?"
"In flames and torment?""Oh, yes, I do."
"That sort of hell wouldn't worry me," Fellowes said."Perhaps not quite that. They tell us it may be a permanent sense of loss."
"Perhaps you've never lost anything of importance," Scobie said.
Did you symbolise swan for spirit/soul?Very well done.
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