by Robert Hayes
A poem about a truly broken man who confides his sorrow and despair to a pile of stones.
| THE STONES
I bear my sorrow to the stones.
For in this moment I'm all alone.
My whispers speak of my lament
On tortured ears my prayers are sent.
Cowering before this monolith
The darkness sends its only gift.
Surrounded in its silent scorn
The shadows hunt before the dawn
This weeping hour of my decay
As all I loved falls away.
Broken now, a man's remorse
Penetrates my every thought
Voices whisper within my slumber
As darkness tries to pull me under.
Awoken now, this my fate
I beg the stones to take my place.
Take this curse and let me be
Take my life and set me free
In muted tone, the stones reply
It's not yet time for you to die
Reconcile your hidden path
And seek to heal your broken Heart.
Comfort found, and wisdom sort
I beg forgiveness before my court
Wronged by love, and fooled in lies
I wipe the tears from my eyes
Breaking now and sorrow free
I part the stones in history
Split in two they rest no more
As I leave to fight my war
A battle fought within my mind
A battle fought for all of time.