I don't write nearly so much as perhaps I should, as I like to think I have some aptitude for it, and thoughts that might potentially be woven into something of at least modest substance. But I do write occasionaly, and even more rarely, it turns out passably. So, I figure, why not share whatever I think might not make me appear an utterly vapid hack? And I thought I might do it here, for the sake of perhaps helping someone pass a minute or two.
And I think I will start by sharing a poem I wrote a few years back. Just about the only piece of poetry I could dare say I was content with at the time, and still manage to appriciate in some small way. I pondered revising it, maybe improving it's choice of words or measures. But I could not find it in me to alter a work written in such a particular state of mind, and so here it stands as when first completed, for all its ills.
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~Desolate Star~
The world has gone dark
Passed from day to night
No more song of lark
Now come hours of fright
And yet I see something bright
And to a gentle chime I hark
A stabbing needle of light
A single but sharp silver mark
A star is lit within my sight
Against the darkness it does fight
A tiny but intensely burning spark
Upon a sea of shadows stark
A lonely flower in a withered park
This celestial body upon its arc
So bravely defiant in its plight
A cry for hope and beauty taken flight
Sithil's Scribal Selections
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Sithil's Scribal Selections
All my life I've seen a world that hates evil more than it loves good ~Johann von Staupitz(Luther, 2003)