Life has brought nothing but pain
& love has left me little to gain
My efforts all seem in vain
& thus the cycle begins again
My wronging hangs like a black cloud
The light of life it seems to shroud
But I dare not say aloud
Of me already they are not proud
Life in itself seems bleak
With fear of losing my voice I do not speak
But inside I mourn the great lion gone meek
How the great pain in my heart has made me weak
How I must reek of great despair
A scent so vile it poisons the air
I cannot but ask how is this fair
Tell me lord for your servant have you no care
Of happiness the dreamer dreams
That life would be all it seems
But for now the tears in my eyes are all that gleam
& down the curves of my face they gently stream
YOU ARE READING
through toil and chance
PoetryPoetry for the doers and the dreamers. Poetry for the lovers and the fighters. Poetry for the soul seeker and the self lover. Poetry for the misfits and the outcast. Poetry for the classicist and poetry for the modernist. Pictures featured are not...
