Monday, 26 November 2012

"The Wanderer"

I love to write. I write when I'm happy, I write when I'm sad. I write whenever I have something to say, some feelings to express. I know I haven't been updating this space regarding my exchange and other reviews and such, but I'm having a tough week now, filled with work and some drama. Since I wrote this poem in a fit of catharsis, I'm going to post it here and let you have a glimpse into my writing. I have written many more poems but I have never published them here. Perhaps in time I will.

And now, for the poem.

The Wanderer

Now that I’m at Fancy’s door,
Myself, my oaths I did perjure

Now that I’m at Fancy’s hearth
I see that plaque of metal craft:

“All that glitters is not gold
Fare you well, your wish is cold”

Wish I had but wisdom more
To see the writing on the wall

As I lay, resigned to burn
There, inscribed upon my urn:

“All that is gold does not glitter
Not all those who wander are lost”

I rise, to find my ashes bitter
And to bear my golden cross