I <br /> <br />When you look into my eyes, I wonder – <br />If at times – you see the setting sun <br />Releasing the last spears of light as it <br />Drearily dips out of sight <br /> <br /> II <br /> <br />Shoulders hunched <br />I sit crouched on a chair <br />In front of me, on a table <br />Is a crumpled sheet of paper <br />On which is scribbled <br />A few incoherent lines <br />Which beckons me into a world <br />Of inchoate form <br />And candle wax tears <br />Where hope lies encircled <br />In the shadowy wings, <br />The interstitial silences <br />Of doubt <br /> <br /> III <br /> <br />Sprawling vacant spaces <br />Hollow gorges <br />Stubborn tufts of dry grass <br />Exposed by the razor edged sun <br />Kiss the horizon <br />Anaesthetised moments <br />Pregnant with nothingness <br />Wallowing in gruesome grotesquery <br />Crawl around and knot each other <br />Like overfed worms<br /><br />leonard daranjo<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sketches-of-ennui/
