The Refuse

Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com
Source: flickr.com

The Refuse

By Tony DeLorger © 2011


I am surrounded by debris,

looking back it is impenetrable,

like massive fragments of jagged stone,

strewn across the path I have trodden.

Beneath the refuse,

it reads like a classical tragedy,

the loss and pain of past,

tearing at my soul,

leaving it yearning for the healing hand,

of love’s tender touch.

I am not consumed by what has been,

but recognising it makes me wonder

how I am still here.

Its immensity now strikes me,

wounds so deep

I feel them,

and the void they occupy.

Sometimes I experience clarity,

an innate knowing of this purpose,

but other times it is just

overwhelming, too much.

I must look forward,

allow resolution

to create forward movement,

but the debris

still encroaches upon the path,

rimming it enough

to make each step uncertain,

hesitant.

The path is long,

and a far distant horizon beckons,

and each step I take with hope,

knowing I am the master,

the creator.

But the soul is weakened,

the scars are deep

and my understanding

still drives me to know,

my human plight.

I now need company,

a soul to nurture

what can be made whole.


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Comments 4 comments

Tony DeLorger profile image

Tony DeLorger 5 years ago from Adelaide, South Australia Author

Thanks Binaya, I do appreciate the compliment. I'm just glad you enjoy what I do. Thanks again.


Binaya.Ghimire 5 years ago

You are one of the few poets on hubpages whose all work I try to read


Tony DeLorger profile image

Tony DeLorger 5 years ago from Adelaide, South Australia Author

Thankyou Prashant, I'm glad you did. Thanks for reading and making a comment.


prashant angiras profile image

prashant angiras 5 years ago from shimla(india)

The loss and the pain that we been through in your past is something that haunts our mind,we can get over the pain partially,some of it will always reaming to remind us of our past.i liked your poem.

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