Footsteps
I hear his footsteps on that trail that wends throughout my lifeHis gait now burdened with my weighted sin's
And in the mirror eyes all knowing reflect mine, revealing flight
And I fear him, and his ever cryptic hymns.
He wears a cloak of many shades, most of a darker hue
His footsteps soft, but not to my keen ear
My foe, this strange pervasive entity I know so true
My conscience whom I know to be unclear.
I hear his footsteps quicken and I pause to him engage
I feel it time we two at last should meet
For I am long now rid of my shallowness and rage
No stronger soul than mine would he now greet.
The tempo of his footfalls now swift in their tattoo
I feel his presence encompassing all that of me
Now interlaced our thoughts begin as one, anew and true
No more to pay that erring liars fee.
Brendan.
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 552 times
Written on 2006-01-18 at 17:44
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