I

In his declaration, he astounds
His good intentions, in sucking grounds
Sinking in the depths of watery Earth
A muddy place of death and mirth
As bystanders watch amused
Nothing more.
Bleeding.
Bruised.

And nothing more.

Nothing more.

Trapped by roots, in a sullen town
Too broken for making speech or sound
Trapped between sky and ground
Not a heaven and hell
Just soles and crown
The hard trodden roads
Under street lights shining down

While the rest of life drowns

Heartless life made muddy brown
A soul left lost.
Tied.
Bound.

Weathered.
Tethered.

And there
His report was found

II

He had waited for his day of knowing
A day to reap all he had been sowing

His day for solace and understanding
Nothing special he was demanding
Just answers to his questions
And the fruits of his intentions
To the satisfaction
Of his innate curiosity

And nothing more.

Nothing more.

The why
Especially the why
There was never an answer to the why
And it haunted him
Lurching a black cloud above
On the sunny days
And times of love
Weeping tears and pain
Cold and drowning in this rain
Rolling down his creasing brow
Nothing that he can change now

He felt older
Older, not wiser
And left behind
With the broken arrows
Beneath the targets he could not pierce
Each one begging the question

Why?

III

Wistful scrawling
On the wall
Ceiling, floor and down the hall
Symbols, words and statements made
Begging for a barter trade
To make them real once again
Bring them to life was his plan
No breath, no sigh, no blood in vein
No beating heart, no thinking brain

Broken
Beaten
Spirit buried

No more this life
Would make him harried

Left with words and nothing more

And nothing more.

Nothing more.

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Originally written May 27, 2011