Who are we in life, if hopeful not of its end?
an audience awed in passing, wishful not to attend
this orchestra, a cacophony of silence and of sound,
while our evanescent joy, obligation surely offends.
What is termed loss, if not a moment to begin with?
a romance left undone, not an affliction to make writhe
our souls that have salvation nor any further to see,
while ambivalent turns existence, from lucidity when made rid.
When are we defined, as mortals and not gods?
by the very end of sunset, each sunset and what odds
have we of finding freedom, of will, of love, of loss,
while those we presumed tending, are ones left most unawed.
“Some questions can only be posed, but never answered.”
We are but a choice to be, and that determines what we see…. I know, I know, still not an answer! Beautiful Poem my friend.
Thank you Travis, although it is not an answer, it is reassuring nonetheless.
“this orchestra, a cacophony of silence and of sound,” That is beautiful!
Thank you so much,I’m glad you found it so beautiful.
Your poem is beautifully written and read and I have read it several times. I may be missing something but it seems so very sad. To wish for the end without knowing what will come is sheer foolishness, because we do have a choice. To me, the answer is that no one tends to another, we are each responsible for ourselves. Freedom, will, and love (perhaps especially
love) are dependent on who and what we are and can be completely independent of either freedom or the ability to initiate self-will.
Mrs. Atwood, you are indeed missing something, you might want to go through this one last time. 😀
This is the type of poem an AP Lit class would spend half a class period or more having a deep discussion over. I mean that as a compliment.
Thank you so much, your kind words humble me my friend.
Beautiful!
I thank you Ava, you are too kind.
‘When are we defined, as mortals and not gods?’ Absolutely love this line, though I know too many that haven’t made that distinction thus far.
Thank you Anna, those who aspire to greatness are remembered as legends if they do get there, or as fools if they do not.
Check out my poetry at #heartstrokes101.wordpress.com
Love it.
Thank you.
It was unique, and intriguing to state the least.
Just beautiful. Thank you for reading my poem and following my blog. Deb
Thank you, you are welcome Deb.
Another though provoking piece, another inner monologue that has been scripted beautifully.
Thank you very much, it truly is a compliment.
Reblogged this on Adventures in Writing and commented:
Beautiful poem.
“while our evanescent joy, obligation surely offends.”
Oh how often has obligation offended my evanescent joy!
Very well done, I enjoyed parsing the negatives!
Thank you Aisha, I am glad you enjoyed yourself.
That is beautiful!
Thank you Zainab.
“Judge a man by his questions rather than by his answers.”
I thoroughly enjoyed your poem.
Verily, and I reciprocate with this, “Thank a woman for her graciousness and the eloquence with which she acknowledges your work.”
Thank you Amber.
great and inspiring sadness
Thank you so much, the confusion can be overwhelming sometimes.
Sorry for the late response…
I am glad you found some of my offering agreeable. Feel free to visit again.
I must confess I am utterly new to blogging and e-publishing in general, and you may have noticed my site is still under construction.
From what I have seen and read so far I have to say I am politely surprised, nay!, impressed by the community I seem to have found.
A world of possibilities…
What more can I say, welcome to wordpress. 😀
Regards,
Osama Iftikhar
Poems and People
The musicality of your words is a delight to my ear.
Thank you Gwen, as is your appreciation to my sight. 😀
Thank you for following my blog. This poem is so beautiful!
You are welcome, and thank you so much.