PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A marker sits in the road behind

I keep looking back to remember

stroke the stone to keep alive the ember

I struggle on but find that I always return

I put it out but find that it always burns

and on the marker there is always one lonely word

Home the wind to always stir

the eternal ash

Home the cut to always lure

the blissful glass

Home the heaven to always monitor

the sinful pass

Home the door to always endure

and endless mass

The markers words is universal and one

A single light from many suns

Until I become stone, the marker is never done

Until I become a ghost, the marker will always haunt

Until I become the road, the marker has not yet won

I push on but find that I always return

I put it out, but find that it always burns

I pretend, but I never learn!

The road takes such unexpected turns

Gives wings to helpless birds

Leads me again and again

Back to the marker