The cornfield (By Black Enigma)

Status: Finished

The cornfield (By Black Enigma)

Status: Finished

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The cornfield (By Black Enigma)

Poem by: Black Enigma

Details

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Summary

This poem is based on saying in my language that when a person enters a cornfield in search for the best one he ends up with the worst one or nothing at all. This saying is related to finding the perfect spouse…finding the most gorgeous one but we are never satisfied feeling that another angel awaits us. This human nature applies to almost every aspect of our life…we are never satisfied. I wrote this poem in effort to convey that message that such desires often leave us with nothing. Patience is another thing but the wanting of even better is pure worldly lust…and it only hurts.

Summary

This poem is based on saying in my language that when a person enters a cornfield in search for the best one he ends up with the worst one or nothing at all. This saying is related to finding the perfect spouse…finding the most gorgeous one but we are never satisfied feeling that another angel awaits us. This human nature applies to almost every aspect of our life…we are never satisfied. I wrote this poem in effort to convey that message that such desires often leave us with nothing. Patience is another thing but the wanting of even better is pure worldly lust…and it only hurts.

Content

Submitted: February 27, 2010

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Content

Submitted: February 27, 2010

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A cornfield
He holds his breath
Then heads on
A breeze
Makes them dance;
The corn stalks
~
They look alike
Smell the same
But which one holds the taste?
Worthy of kings
A seed sown by an angel
He seeks it this day
~
Touches one
The heart screams
Patience fool, patience
Withhold that urge
Slave and bleed
To find the one from heaven
~
Little ones, fat ones
Large ones, thin ones
In the list of rejections
Where is the perfect one?
Just like the golden sun
The soul seeks satisfaction
~
The cornfield ends
The last row
Of young babies
He had left behind
Gold for diamond
Looking at his weary feet
~
Plucks a tiny one
Eats with a sniffle
Salty taste of tears
Spits it out
Eyes the sky
With a strange fear
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
Yes, they say patience
Bears the perfect fruit
But there is a fine line
Separating it from lust
Of having the universal showcase
It turns days to nights
 


© Copyright 2016 Black Enigma. All rights reserved.

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