Poetry, Reflections

Forgotten Hill


Ridiculous is what lies within,
A hundred thousand desires still,
Lampooned and struggling forth,
Diffident virtue is what I foresee.

Harboring thoughts of gratitude,
Melancholic dreams of the undead,
Driven to the knots of subsist fury,
Amidst pain, these dreams I nightly bury.

Forgotten is he, who walks this land,
Memories he wishes to understand,
Pensively he stands quivering still,
Sullenly he climbs upon the forgotten hill.

Shadows he sees dancing akin to fire,
Dancing madly to the beasts of his desire,
A thousand fires of desires within,
A thousand flames doused like yesterday’s sin.

Stands tonight this man lonely still,
Still forgotten on the forgotten hill…


Defiant Fury he holds within,
Succumbing to the ashes of nightly sin,
Standing atop the shadows of the hill
Eternal desires and wants he killed,
Reborn are they in an instant yet,
Wanting again what he could never get.

Forgotten is he, who walks this earth,
Dispelling the fears that he gave birth,
This lonely man with a tiring will,
Still forgotten upon this forgotten hill…

Standing atop unmoving life he sees,
The life that brought him to his knees,
He quakes with veiled fury,
That pain he just can’t bury,
Bleeding tears trickle down his face,
His heartbeats fasten in pace,

A loaded gun he presses upon his head,
Feels a warmth and allure of a childhood bed,
He wishes to sleep for a moment yet,
The pain swells inside his sickening head,

With wishes and wants forgotten,
With the ashes of sins and fires left burning,
With eternal dreams always left churning,
The man looks around him now,
It was close he could feel it now,

Click…and it was done.

Forgotten was he, who walked this land,
Hoping that death could make him understand,
Peace he now finds when he is dead,
The forgotten man sleeps upon death’s own bed.

Lay this man lonely still,
A forgotten body upon a forgotten hill…


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