Poetry

Broken Compass (poem)

Lost and uncertain

The space between a forgotten

past and an elusive future

grows. Thickens.

Stretching across the black sea

I’m surrounded. My boat drifts

along the endless landscape

of time. My clock, ticks.

Is it this way, or that?

 

I’ve long been alone,

here.

Broken compass shifts,

with each passing tide.

Am I moving closer?

Or further away?

A haunting crossroads,

split road, oh endless pathway

you taunt me.

Stuck here, now.

I once knew…surely?

 

Time exists not. Not for me.

Here, now.

But then, when?

Abandoned by a silent

Guardian Angel.

Empty pages flicker past

This or that?

Wrong answer. Oh God.

 

What if I choose not to

choose?

Will the Reaper lift his scythe

and strike? Broken clock

Next to my broken compass.

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