Poetry: yearning of old



I yearn for the days of old.
I look to the hills
for adventure and glory.

I look to the seas
to fight the good fight.
To dash to and fro
fighting my way
through the day.

I look to the deserts
barreling fiercely
on my strong steed.
Breaking through the
lines of the weary enemy.

I see my chance!
I push forward,
my sword swinging
back and forth!

My enemy falls,
victory lies at hand!

But then the vision

I am left here to stare
at nothing important.
I see only the days
of gray before me.

Adventure is just a myth,
a tease of something great.
While I continue on
in this gray nothingness.



Copyright 2013 Russell Dickerson. All rights reserved.


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