Crossroads

[Pendragon]

Crossroads

I stood in the night rain all alone
Blinded by tears and drops of rain—
Wondering where my life vanished and gone

Known only by sorrow and enveloping pain,
A moment frozen in space and in time
Forced to relive the past again and again

It makes no sense, neither rhythm nor rhyme,
To rehash the past, to dig up the bones—
Imprisoned in darkness having committed no crime

I seek refuge here among the standing stones
Placed here by Ancients now naught but dust
Yet company of ghosts beats being alone

Their polished, sharpened steel now gone to rust,
Yet still breathe their secrets and comfort to me
It’s not always that I want to be here—I must

Seeking the shadows, seeing what I shouldn’t see,
Echoes of the intangible, faces in the mist
Is there any comfort in this world for me?

I try hard to avoid this, I try to resist
So I part the curtain of the rain and take my leave
Cold comfort indeed may live in a mist…

Pendragon
© 6/4/10

[PrinceMyshkin]

I grieve with you, Pen, and wonder or hope if there is a corner of your being, a spark of joy - even or maybe especially mischievous joy - that you might rekindle and enjoy?

[formality hater]

I try hard to avoid this, I try to resist
So I part the curtain of the rain and take my leave
Cold comfort indeed may live in a mist…



I simply love these lines!

[Bar22do]

Pen, this is touching and leaves one with so much empathy for the N and with little advice.
Still, a crossroad is a place of options, one of them must be a better Life down here! If only the N progressively turned his/her attention to the resources within him/her and let them bless and strengthen his/her life, inspire with constructive ideas, actions, etc... From a certain age on, are we not our own mother, father, child? responsible for ourselves? why allow the past to harass us? why should the past rule and decide about the present? One day, soon, the N can wake up with his face basked in the morning sun and throw off the yoke under which he/she had suffered and start all over again, to build day after day, with whatever is available, small things and details, moments of tiny satisfactions... and in no time he/she will shine with smile and a warming, gentle light will illumine all around him/her... we can become creators at any moment in life... and to anyone his greatness as also his limits...

Sorry, I got carried away! but with love wrapping up your sad poem, painful but beautiful - Bar

[PrinceMyshkin]

Pen, this is touching and leaves one with so much empathy for the N and with little advice.
Still, a crossroad is a place of options, one of them must be a better Life down here! If only the N progressively turned his/her attention to the resources within him/her and let them bless and strengthen his/her life, inspire with constructive ideas, actions, etc... From a certain age on, are we not our own mother, father, child? responsible for ourselves? why allow the past to harass us? why should the past rule and decide about the present? One day, soon, the N can wake up with his face basked in the morning sun and throw off the yoke under which he/she had suffered and start all over again, to build day after day, with whatever is available, small things and details, moments of tiny satisfactions... and in no time he/she will shine with smile and a warming, gentle light will illumine all around him/her... we can become creators at any moment in life... and to anyone his greatness as also his limits...

Sorry, I got carried away! but with love wrapping up your sad poem, painful but beautiful - Bar

Whoever the aforementioned "I" is, I don't think she got carried away so much as did her heart and her strong, hope-filled advice.

[Bar22do]

Crossroads

I stood in the night rain all alone
Blinded by tears and drops of rain—
Wondering where my life vanished and gone

Known only by sorrow and enveloping pain,
A moment frozen in space and in time
Forced to relive the past again and again

It makes no sense, neither rhythm nor rhyme,
To rehash the past, to dig up the bones—
Imprisoned in darkness having committed no crime

I seek refuge here among the standing stones
Placed here by Ancients now naught but dust
Yet company of ghosts beats being alone

Their polished, sharpened steel now gone to rust,
Yet still breathe their secrets and comfort to me
It’s not always that I want to be here—I must

Seeking the shadows, seeing what I shouldn’t see,
Echoes of the intangible, faces in the mist
Is there any comfort in this world for me?

I try hard to avoid this, I try to resist
So I part the curtain of the rain and take my leave
Cold comfort indeed may live in a mist…

Pendragon
© 6/4/10

I thought more of us might read you and feel your protagonist's universal pain, value his heroic "I MUST, I resist", partake of his passage through the rain...
There is comfort in the mist indeed, in the first step made towards the unknown, in a new dimension of breath, in a poetry line one visits, or hosts... and slowly, the mist gets warmer and clearer the horizon, and the strength does return because a sense of "ahead" is reached.
Pen, your poem conveys so well the inner strife - Bar

[lallison]

This is a great poem, Pen, One of the best of yours that I've read. Not because it's sad, but because of the depth of the emotion and the crystalline imagery you use to depict it.

from the very first line:

I stood in the night rain all alone
to the final verse:

Cold comfort indeed may live in a mist…
it kept me involved, interested, and moved

Excellent work!
lal