|
Edge of the World
Alone at the edge of my world,
Surveying the aliens without,
Knowing not even a single one
Has the faintest inkling about
The unseen passions throbbing
Deep down within my soul
In an aching, morphing chasm Pulsing from volcanic to icy cold.
It teems with the joys and angst In conflict
behind the façade
That conceals my true essence
From the scrutiny of all but God.
We converse without hearing
What the other really means,
We look upon one another
Our inner selves remain unseen.
Your
world is as it always was,
I am what I will forever be;
I accept this immutable truth
For I can so clearly see
We travel along parallel paths
In mutual, amicable pretense
That we are close companions
Despite the invisible fence
That forever prevents the
Commingling of our realities - The integration of uniqueness That creates Us from You and Me.
© Thurman P. Woodfork
|
