From the song Patterns (#1139829)

About This Author

My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **

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Sep 25, 2005 at 8:35pm

#1139829

From the song Patterns

by Damia

A Maze

Through the maze I aimlessly wander blind
At every turn, confronted by unyeilding fate
Screaming at the utter uselessness of persisting
Voices inside clamoring for attention not due
On I blunder to yet another far too dead end
Chaos swirling and turning pushing and prodding
Struggling for an understanding of what leads
What follows, what is past, what is present
Life without symmetry, without aligned purpose
Logic has no meaning, no purpose, no light
Darkeness envelopes consuming all hope
As I search for patterns in the cyclonic black
Driven by an unknown source questing me
Querying me for answers in the roar of my mind
For questions that I have not yet formulated
Absolution found in painful lonliness
Bereft of hope when thats all thats left
Of a life spent battling to find the path
The unmistakeble reason for living
Forced and buffetted by the winds of fate
Left to a chance that has a deadly aim.

Damia

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