Circles -Dark Phoenix

Hullo there people. my first poem in quite a while , trying out some new things. hope you like it.


Six circles on a page
It was a game, the teacher played,
The bell rang too soon that day.
Again.

I never made it to Sliabh na mBan's peak
Mist and mud
And a cairn without my offering,
Again.


They made me ride the first day,
Each rickety stumble made me swear
I would ride, but never jump
And play but never try for fear I would be seen,
Knowing what it means


And walking by the river
Where I fished for hopes with nothing on the line
I fell, a calculated stumble,
In that in which I swim but cannot breath,

Six strings in a pauper's hand,
It was a game we played as real.
Nothing ever lasts.
Again.

I stole a moment from a dream
And crushed its wings in my embrace,
Dust at my fingertips,
Again.

Hours dividing zeros into
lines of fractured focus,
Has led me to the summit

But what happens, if all that I can see,

Is the other side of the mountain?



-Dark Phoenix

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