Eclipse

Aflounder the uncompassed darkness of doubt
In search of the path to the goal
That lies at the end of our transient day,
The ultimate bourne of the soul;
I grasp into nothingness, feebly essay
To clasp but a willow, a stone,
And grope through the stepless, unechoing gloom
Unanswered, unsuccored, alone!
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.