- Books, Literature, and Writing
The Unyielding Scene - Original Poem
What makes us bask in solitude,
What makes us desire the unyielding scene?
How shall we understand this vague direction,
To go where no one has been?
Archaic they say, though I think divine,
The feelings that bring me here.
What more is then said,
Shall I hide my head?
This is the truth and my tear.
The music that flows along softly,
Down the canyons,
Finds joy before despair.
Dirtied and black,
But the crystal spring is still unaware.
To forget then perhaps,
The ugly yielding truth,
That eventually finds us below,
Is the reason for my pilgrimage,
Amidst the forgetfulness of snow.