Lost

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Lost

I skated through an eternity so divine
I drifted through the ocean’s salty wine
Above the soft spring breeze my feet will roam
Back to the wilderness I call home

But at the end of the day
I lost my way
I was frightened in an ebony of despair
I searched down gritty roads leading nowhere

Then, in the darkest of dark nights
I came upon a star so bright
Its depth so solitare
It pierced the midnight air

The foreboding moon now a glittering jewel
Reflecting in glassy eternal pools
Could not even compare in the splendor
Of such a bright and lustrous mentor

Through the deserts of the forsaken I will come
To thank this glorious pilot who leads me home
The glorious pilot whose anonymity
Paints the path of my rising glee

Faster and faster I race to the blessed home
That I have never known
But I wonder when I get there will I know
That the light brightening my path was my own

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Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

natgold’s Poems (9)

Title Comments
Title Comments
City Limits 1
Lost 0
Nick 1
The Lonesome Pine 2
The Great Fall 1
Runway 0
The Old Lighthouse 0
Sandman 0
Memories 0