A brooding, restless spirit,
A poor man set adrift –
Without a home and family,
To God his face did lift…
He desired no one’s pity;
It was just for peace he yearned –
Restful sleep, no pain down deep,
Where his dwindling fire burned.

An orange and dying ember,
Flickering, soon to die…
Courage another September?
Will the darkness pass him by?
He felt no urge to move or stir,
In silence he sat alone –
An aged, decrepit body,
And nothing he really owned.

“GOD HAVE MERCY!” he cried aloud,
And fell upon his knees.
He buried his face into his hands
And whimpered softly, “Please…”
Then the peace he ever yearned for,
Entered into his soul.
He succumbed to his surrender,
And now the bell will toll.

2wit

Great writing, 2wit!
I awe with this your poem!
Thanks.
SergoD.

Thanks so much... 2wit

This write does well to describe the "meens to an end". The point where Human perception perceives status within It's own universe. The subjects perception led surrender. But the benifits of this surrender weren't fully depicted.

I would be interested in this knowledge. The Human struggle happens to be one of my favorite topics in poetry. This write fed my favor and left me inspired.

Thank you for sharing fellow poet.

Phil

It is funny how time goes by...

2wit