Made hard by life, by lack
Left alone to endure the cold places
Empty times when I trekked the storm blown plains
Plains of my own lost journey
When I was banished from my own existence
My own life
My own family
I, a stranger in familiarity
Known as the villain in my own saga
Challenged fate cursed the moment
Raised my fist to the sky
In the darkest of days , fear an enemy yet one the I dominated
As I stared down the hated gaze of my detractors
Shouted (Never!) To those wanton haters
That demanded submission, compliance
If I took a knee , it was in prayer
A prayer of strength
Of victory over the conquistadors of my belligerent adversaries
I will not go quietly
Surrendering to those who seek to author my fate, design my demise
I move forward against the bitter deluge
The violent winds
The angry sky
The storm is coming, the die is cast
War against the anarchist of my discontent inevitable
I stare into the tempest
My gaze locked on the future
As others falter in the progression of their moral intent
With my head up… my motivation, a righteous certainty
Endurance a surety
Embolden by my conviction
I Rise
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Solitary Trek: Life Lost In Translation
Life the solitary trek
Alone in the cacophony of things, people
Searching for solace, for reason
For purpose in the meanless cavalcade of experience
An abstract journey to empty dreams
Hopeless revelry with lost expectation
Questioning rational logic as the cycle continues
The pain becomes reason
As bitter souls pursue feeling… some feeling
Amour , enmity any feeling and failing
Indifference inundates the jaded heart
Withers the optimistic perspective
Leaving husks of people that aren’t living
Aren’t savoring moments of memory
That in youth beheld wonder in each encounter, in each breath
Now , the barren mindscape a monotonous repetitive grind
As one day replays
Again and
Again and
Again.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
