Home > Poetry > Scattered


Mad as a hatter,

I’m not ideal

Or anything like it,

For that matter.

Who knows where one day

These scattered thoughts may converge

Or part ways forever,

Dispersing through the cosmos.

Meaningless, they are after all.

Only by fighting like a mule

Can I try to stop their fall.

By giving them some sense

Even if I know they’ve none

At all! Alas, I crawl

Into the cave of ignorance

Where I do not want to stay.

I was born under the sun

(Albeit a weakling one)

And I shall not be allowed to regress,

Day by day, into the shadows

Where so many lay, and lie.

Let the battle commence, let it rage

Against the beast that lurks unscathed

The hideous insidious, hated heathen

Guardian of the feeble reservations

(Mine is fear).

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