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It Has Always Been A Struggle

it has always been a struggle.

time is a thread
connecting two strange bridges
one walks
and balances in order not to fall
to the abyss
of failure

it is always a question of
how i touch love with love

i carry love and the one i touch
does not recognize the warmth of my
hands

it looks at me as though i am a stranger from a very far land

i am always broken and sometimes i wish to have the hands of Midas
not the kind that makes everything gold

i want to have the snake hairs and the gaze that can make those who do not see love in me

turn into stones.

it has always been a struggle and when the shadow of death comes with his sickle

i will speak no word at all
and gladly shall i go with it

it is my wish for now.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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