He who rides a tiger
He rides a steed known as confusionupon a bleak landscape
His cloak once devoid of self delusion
Now a threadbare cape.
Endlessly now tilting at the windmills
In his mind
The errant knight rides ever onwards
though he be long blind
His dreams once a wistful Kaleidoscope
of many splendid things
Now stained with sorrow and tainted
with the reality that life brings
Those arrows dipped in wrathful wells
of lovers he once knew
Rained upon his faithless heart
as from his past they flew
But yet he rode in search of conquests
Endless in their count
Knowing he who rides the faithless tiger
can never dismount.
Brendan.
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 589 times
Written on 2006-02-03 at 08:38
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