Waxen Wings

I feel the darkness creeping in,

Abhorrent beast of hate and sin,

I try to fight, not let it win,

But futile have my efforts been,

For in it seeps and overtakes,

Inside my soul, despair it wakes.

For happiness is hard to grasp,

Try as I might, it cannot last,

It’s never present, always past,

It stays so brief and goes so fast.

I thought I’d found it in those eyes,

But as before, it was but lies.

Why can I never find my peace?

Where is this pain, why does the beast,

Enrapture me and on me feast,

Upon my joy, for this has ceased,

And left me crying in the dark.

I fear I’ll hear no morning lark.

My life is but a carousel,

Around it goes, I cannot tell,

If I still ride or if I fell,

A prince in heaven, bound for hell,

As waxen wings decay and die;

I plummet through the blazing sky.

For life is but a simple task,

The meaning though you cannot ask,

You must traverse with any mask,

Your actions, choices, all are classed.

A short and crucial judgement plan,

Upon the very soul of man.

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin