Dirty Fractyl
2002-06-30 01:04:34 (UTC)

the other 2 poems

written today


Counting the lapses of feeling,
No constants relate the mundane
Nore the inherent pain we sing,
Seven billion, no one is sane.

No heart can circumscribe love's waters
Without an equal loving partner.
Purity's sweet and rare daughters
Evade us, though we see them clear.

Given but a precious moment,
Could I touch but a single heart?
Yet having failed, alone, I repent,
Unable to find even a start.

Still the bane is universal,
The shared cry of so many souls,
With each in their own way special,
Able to fill one anothers' holes.

And we wander to tomorrow,
"Destitute by chance," it is said,
Yet it does not ease the sorrow,
Not if you're amongst those who've bled.


1460 days erased nothing.
'Time eases pain'
Of course--we all die.
But little can belie
The empty promises of Fate,
The enigmatic ruler of us all,
Who keeps his word by never giving it.