Dreamer of the future, lost in the past

(NOTE: this is a work of fiction. I try to write positive endings most of the time, but this poem has a sad one.)

Dreaming of another day,
drinking hour hands awry;
you’re aching to seal your heart away
from spoils of a broken past.

From wreckage is born
a treasure chest of rusted gold –
but its key has drifted into future seas,
and you’re still stranded in a former life.

Lost on an island in midst of nowhere,
finding relief in footsteps on the sand –
says it’s a temporary refuge,
the only sign that you exist.

Then even this is washed away
by torrents of almighty waves –
a brewing storm explodes,
and the grey clouds in your mind escape.

You remain. Cage bars are bent open,
yet you’re still a prisoner of yourself –
unable to let go of chains
that do not even bind you.

Still dreaming of another day
and drinking final breaths away;
still aching to free your heart
from a future you mistook as the past.

(c) 2015 Katho28

Wanderer of the world

(NOTE: this is a work of fiction, inspired by Nickelback’s “What Are You Waiting For”)

Wanderer of the world,
waiting for nothing, for no one.
You said this was the only way:
to break away by choice,
to speak in winter’s coldest voice.
A million leaps of muted faith you took,
deaf to my footsteps pursuing trails
of your evaporated breaths.

You lost your sight
in your own wretched fog.
Visions of a grand future
dissipating before your eyes,
and I tried to make you see
the million other paths
waiting to be paved,
the million miracles
waiting to be noticed,
the million warm embraces
waiting to be accepted.

You didn’t see, you didn’t listen.
So now I’m on my knees,
and I’m begging you:
wanderer of the world,
please wait for something,
please wait for me.

(c) 2015 Katho28