BITTER
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A mist surrounds a man standing on a secluded hill
Winds sudden and the air tasting bittersweet
Is he lonely, afraid? Perhaps even content?
Are the thoughts that plague his mind woeful?
Could he use a hand or does he stand strong?
If he stands strong is he ignorant or indignent?
A chill overtakes him and it feels almost like birth
The beginning of life
Or maybe it seems like the end
A shuttled soul trapped within a cell of thorns
Thorns of a bitter heart made weak from pain
It confines him, but it calms him
It steals his pride yet it empowers him
It fills his soul yet leaves him empty
All consuming is the presence of the desire
All inflicting is the absence of faith

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Written Some Time May-June 2001