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Thought And Demise

What is a thought meant to be,
But a hazardous waste of collected memory,
Twisted and embellished into clarity,
To complacently fall into sanity.

Who can understand enough to categorize,
The emotion that looms in the depths of the wise,
That animate all and light up the eyes,
That stir and trouble the sensitive cries,
Enshrined in a forgotten isle of lies,
Precariously navigated by the reader of skies,
Awakening the artist, who anxiously sighs,
Confronted by a reality he ardently denies,
In an idyllic stupor of creativity he lies,
The expanse of Beauty he tragically espies,
Vainly piercing the conceited disguise,
Of the unseen friends that secretly chastise,
Bane of the thorny rose that withers and dies,
Discarding shards of memory, the poet replies,
Hoping to perceive this catatonic prize,
As hope crumbles insipidly into demise,
Abandoning humanity with mournful goodbyes.

poem by Jeremy Cahoon
Added by Poetry Lover
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