As I lie awake, dreaming

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Original poem by Francis McCarty

Submitted: September 27, 2018

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Submitted: September 26, 2018

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As I lie awake, dreaming

thinking, restless, screaming.

Minutes passing over hours,

thoughts bloom like wildflowers

Sleep desired but never found,

the ties of hope become unbound

I make my way through minds abyss,

of younger days chances missed

of wars that rage deep within

and past offenses win again.

The dormant hero grown too old,

his name, my soul, my soul no more.

 

Dreams of work left undone,

of toil and pain not begun

Can virtue be granted any tear,

shed across ungiving years?

Not when surrender takes it's hold,

nor the self be bartered, bought, and sold.

The prize becomes the struggles trap,

when assumed to be the victors lap

The instant flashed and self realized,

the struggle is the struggles prize

The hero finds his will to win,

his name, my soul, my soul again.

 


© Copyright 2018 Francis McCarty. All rights reserved.

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