poetry

the ice of sight (a poem)

on a desolate mountaintop in the ice
sits an angry man who has lost his sight

he sits and puffs out plumes of smoke
and considers the words he once wrote:

words that were meant to jolt and inspire,
that now blot out his organs in scarlet fire.

while he freezes himself in the winter snow,
wondering what he does and does not know,

he wishes he could see his words on paper
though now they are to him but a vapor

that swirls inside and deepens in his brain
a dark and dismal but necessary refrain:

i am an angry man who has lost my sight,
and here i sit on a mountaintop with a heart of ice

4 thoughts on “the ice of sight (a poem)”

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