Lightning Thief
These intrepid hands caught
the descending forks of light
and subdued the harrying cloudburst
like how a child grasps things
out of instinct - from hunger, for safety
with a dire silence in lieu
of the inevitable cleaving
because jeopardizing eyes delve
in the lattices of injured acceptance
for the gnawing pain that scored pride
and the unpaid obeisance
These flimsy hands are burned out
as it steadfastly held unto
the arrowheads of lightning -
the soldering bell rope of alarm
And the treacherously valiant soul,
cautiously and vigilantly, weaves
the heaven's spilled fire of blue
to craft a pall of false pretense:
a gradient of varied palettes
that shall suppress the black hole
siphoning all the scintillating lights
In the limbo of these guzzled suffering
lies an immeasurable abyss
where darkness devours darkness
fecundating the filigree of mistakes
and lost perchance of corrections,
these hands fell suspended
from its larcenous struggle to knot
the ends of heaven's unwoven tassels -
these hailing lightning that
crackled with a shattered frame
and dangles blithely from a tattered tapestry -
for my desire to redeem the casted crown
is deemed futile every time
the blue electric wires slip away
from the pleading grip of my thieving hands
Wuthering for the weeping cicatrix,
these sorry hands vied against
the inertia of predetermined sequence
and still, the old ailing bones
and progressive states of senescence
defeated all the pure endeavors
The sky hurled a riling fist
and stabbed the glassine walls
of these somnambulistic eyes
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poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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