Dust by Mangus Kahn
In constant fear of transparent shadows
Shadows containing where I have been
Shadows reflecting, what these eyes have seen
Falling deeper into Pain’s prison
Shuddering from the cell door’s clang
Closing behind me
Peering through the settling dust
Petrified by a mesmerizing silence
Deciphering the wonders of a wandering mind
My soul speaks, as my quill whispers to thee.
What stories my quill will sing to me?
If I will hear them?
If I will have the courage to write the contents of my heart?
If I will continue to bask in the comforts of this mask?
A mask I have worn for so long
Though safety resides within it
Truth lies outside it
My mind travels to a forgotten time…
A time when I heedlessly skipped through the morning dew
There you are ….
I thought I had lost you …
My fingers caress a totem of my innocence
I place it upon my soul’s mantle
Its image a reminder, not an anchor
For it represents a time long passed gone …
I must prepare for action’s responsibility
Prepare for inaction’s consequence
No longer stagnate in contemplation
Yet, my mind still wanders as it wonders
If the courage I possess, will be enough to get me through the dark days?
If the good that resides within, will one day cast away the darkness?
If I will succumb to the hatred that something rules the soul of man?
If I will live to see the peace that glistens in the pale moonlight, save our hearts?
Moving toward our destiny is the only way
Although, this reflection is regrettable
Its purpose is a profound necessity
Smiling, for one never knows what they may find
As they sift through the dust…
Who knows? They might find themselves…
Copyright © 2011 Mangus Kahn
Mangus Kahn is a writer who describes his life as being “a turning page in a dime store novel”…
“Writing for me, is one of those gifts the Master gives, during the time he is putting together the pieces that make you. Like anything in life, talent is never enough. We must work hard at developing the gifts we have been bestowed. This means that we must dig deep; past our fear, past our doubts, and become the best at whatever we are meant to be. Does this mean that you are the next Ellison, Hemingway, Mosley, Morrison, or Angelou just waiting to be discovered? Perhaps you are? Who really knows? However, we can never be discovered by leaving our work, on the pages of closed binding.”
posted by Paragon Dream
Tags: Action, anchor, cast away, cell, clang, consequence, constant fear, contemplation, courage, dark days, dime store, door, Falling, glistens, good, hatred, heart, inaction, kahn, mangus, Mangus Kahn, mantle, mask, morning dew, Pain, pale moonlight, Peering, quill, responsibility, settling dust, Shuddering, something, soul, soul of man, stagnate, time, totem, wandering mind, whispers, wonder
Filed under: Poetry