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This poem speaks to me of the real cost of tribulation.

by Ryan Swan


In the Incessant Wandering of My Way

In shame's sweet embrace,
I have shed all my dignity;
Within the torrent of humanity,
I slay the dragons of remorse.
Through all of my foolish misadventures,
I gaze long after the ebbing tides of the past,
Singing life's song, which ends in tears.
I walk this path prescribed to me,
Swept away in the current of fear.
I struggle to stay afloat;
Hindsight becomes my crutch.
Lost in the forest of pain,
I use apathy as the morphine for my soul.
Shadowed by failure,
Haunted by loss, scarred with pity,
I am mocked by the plebes of the world,
And in the incessant wandering of my way,
Standing inexorably at the fields of time,
I have come to the sad conclusion,
Dead men dance no longer.