For What We Are Not Meant

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a piece of poetry I wrote, and I'll leave you all to determine the meaning behind it in the comments.

Submitted: April 22, 2013

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Submitted: April 22, 2013



It is on this dock
That I’ve gathered my thoughts,
Upon these waves
That I’ve planted a seed,
A seed that holds
The other half of my soul.

It is on this dock
That I see what others covet,
And I have nothing to give.
I know I will suppress these thoughts at some point,
But I don’t mind them dying with me.
I wouldn’t want
The truth to get out.

It is on this dock
That I converse with the stars
And they murmur sweet nothings
And I beckon them closer
For they surely must be whispering.
It seems they have listened,
For I hear of the pillars on which we stand
And how they fall with the first crack.
I hear of the idols we give our sanity to
And the time we waste without our hearts.
They tell me stories centuries long
In only a moment’s time:
Lessons to cherish and keep,
Lessons we ignore.

The call is breaking up;
The clouds are rolling in.
The stars quickly say,
“We’ve said too much,”
And they leave these words behind their backs.
The clouds invite the rain,
But I’m not done yet.
I’m only closer than before.

I’m worried my ponderings
Will take me off the edge.
My power, too,
For with this crown I bear,
My flight is perilous.
I am the hijacked jet plane
Only with no hurt in mind.

The colorless sky
Is the amplitude of my wonders,
So I’ll go just that far,
Perhaps even more so
In the end,
But my journey drags me elsewhere,
So looking up is not my wage.

The stars created a vista
On which my soul surfs,
So I’ll go there first,
Or at least close enough.
A hill will do.

It is on this hill
That I’ve come closer to the end
Than I’ve ever wanted to be,
Though at least I’ll get a taste
Of what is to come.
But what is to come?
I’m parched of knowledge
And the stars have left me dry;
The thunder brings me none
But vicious sky.
Perhaps that is where I’ll go.
Perhaps every soul rides a star
Into the merry sky
And enters the gates
Of Heaven on High
And meets the Lord
Or passes by
On the way to new life
Unless it is a lie. ||

So it is on this dock
That I’ve gathered my thoughts
And have an age to tell
The truths I have earned. ||
But I choose naught
And plunge into the abyss
And the waves still churn,
Evermore, evermore.

by Jacob A. P.

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