PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

On a cool night in October, when the thought worms weave and crawl

I was dealing with my anger, I was hiding from my faults.

And my soul was running rancid, feeling kind of bleak,

So I looked out through my window, past the day lacking peace,  

and I fell into a liquidness and nursed my inner child

I was searching for some righteousness, I'd been searching for awhile.

Then I heard a song Arrochar, an Indian through my glass

The story of a gallant chief whose days were long since past.



His words were growing louder now, my eyes began to stray.

My muse was breathing harder now, as the daylight flew away

A troop hard riding, bluecoat boys, came in upon the scene  

Their Captain barking orders loud, with dust clouds billowing.



Then I stroked my whiskered chin a bit, and drank in the sky's ink

When you're out there in that wonder, you just can't refuse to think.

I was floating through a timeless glass, up to the spirit of hearts  

I was getting close to reasons shared, somewhere inside the stars.





And then a smiling maiden's eyes hypnotized my source

She laughed lightly on my ears, part of the music score.

Then I heard the call of Arrochar, I soared outside of me

I was blithesome in that distant land, within my summary peace.



The warrior chief sang his song,



"Here in the land of Arrochar,

I can see that it's too late

to grace your earth with spirit care

in a world so full of waste.

Now the future's headed nowhere

and there's no going back

to the golden dawns and sunlit air

where nature's breath was vast.

You're off the trail of wild horses

in your automobiles and planes

and your synthetic hope is phony

while your greed is cursed with pain."





Then I got to feeling empty, when the Captain killed this chief

And I cried removed from yesterday, but still searching for that peace

Off the trail of wild horses I drifted back into the smog

on the last road with my fellow man and I was feeling lost.