Drinking from a vial of dark sadness, cannot
forget, will not forget; mind reeling, mouth
twisted, choking; this pain is not terminal it is
permanent.
Pain, an accumulation from the past that lingers
in memory, drifting in dreams, floundering on
invisible winds of winter; searching through the
impenetrable haze called tomorrow.
A frosted pane, bare branches waving does not
clear the cobwebbed corners of a grieving mind.
A fractured mirror imaging the soul dances
among the sunlight, a pit of Hell or tower to the
Heavens fear is no longer the builder of an
unfinished life.
©2014.imminentthoughts.annjohnsonmurphree
ann johnson-murphree 
Sad but beautiful
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You comment means a lot to me, thank you. Ann
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Oh wow, this is too good–as in well done, authentic, genuine truth. So much I could comment on but, that pain is not terminal but permanent really struck a chord in me. And equally so, the end note.
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Thank you for your comments they are appreciated. Ann
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This is powerful. I love this: “this pain is not terminal it is
permanent.”
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Thank you so very much. AJM
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Well said. Those who have suffered pain alone know how much and where it hurts.
Allow me to share this post with you:
http://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2013/12/09/seven-habits-of-highly-effective-caregivers/
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Thank you for sharing your post, however I was not a caregiver…I lost two adult children one day apart. Searching for answers and surviving continues. Thank you for commenting. AJM
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So very shocking. I often wonder why such things happen to good people. I pray for you to get mental peace and also the capacity to bear a loss of such magnitude with courage and fortitude.
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this pain is not terminal it is permanent.
So this must be the eternal condemnation to hell
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Good analogy! Ann
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You get to me every time.
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Thank you Broken Arrow, I always enjoy seeing you in my comment section, your comments give me hope. Ann
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I’m having a bit of trouble with this blog theme, so…I may be commenting in the wrong place, etc…
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Trouble?
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That was poetically powerful…
I loved the way you have described as an: an accumulation from the past that lingers in memory,
Moreover: “drifting in dreams, floundering on invisible winds of winter”;
These latest ones were blurred images, highlighting the implicit idea of holding back fears and regrets. I found that the winter atmosphere perfectly links to the feeling of sorrow.
Finally I enjoyed the game of opposites, shown through the way you look forward ” searching through the impenetrable haze called tomorrow”.
Your poetry is penetrating, deep and highly connotative.. I
t is truly good to read your words,
Cheers, Aquileana 🙂
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Thank you so much, the way you felt the piece was exactly as I intended, thank you for following my site. Ann
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Thank you for the follow, I just found your writing and love it, still crying over buttercup..
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Oh thank you very much, Buttercup is a true story, your comment on such an older piece is appreciated. Ann
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