The Storm After Dawn

This concept came to me as I dwelt in the darkness of depression inside my mind. I felt as though the storm of the previous night had been cast into my body and that nature had cleansed itself at my expense.

Read More »

Into the Sun

Floating through darkness

The coldness, the emptiness

Out in space, the void consumes me

I cling to hope. My crew is gone

Abandoned unto death, I float without end

Read More »

Fading Unto Death

I wrote this today while wishing for a merciful release from my inner turmoil. I imagined my life in a slow dissolve from the moment I took my first breath as an infant. "Born to die" as they say. Even the brightest day grows dark in the evening.

Read More »

Trust No One

Don't really remember where I was mentally when I wrote this one, but it was not a pleasant place from what I can tell from reading this.

Read More »

Echoes of Eternity

Another poem I wrote as part of a college class. Its tough not to look for the worst in myself, but I gotta remember that not everybody sees me the way I see myself.

Before me a mirror reflects a man, a crude block of stone

on which appears no master’s mark, nor blade on which to hone.

The jagged edges and cracks of strain, a statue yet unformed

denies existence of foundries far from whence itself was torn.

Never to be a majestic peak or monument of kings,

nor hallowed chapel that from within a throng of angels sing.

I must at once unlock the stare, the mirror cannot lie.

Through my own eyes the truth be seen, a hopeless mass abides.

To place a mirror behind me though, the mystery reveals.

I see now more than my own face, posterity fulfilled.

The eyes of my children look to me, I stand much taller now.

Their rock of safety in the storm, my strength to them I show.

Reflected are also ancestral lines of generations, past

fathers and mothers whisper as the breeze among grass.

Hereditary drawings in the caverns of the stone

when deciphered and interpreted give power to their own.

For with a mirror in front and back, reflections never cease.

The chain of life extends beyond the realm the eyes can see.

I view again that slab of rock, raw yet opportune,

recalling its noble birthright from the mount that it was hewn.

It must withstand the storms of time to reach its destined form.

Tears of rain and angry winds give shape where once was none.

All the while unknowingly bearing the master’s mark-

a polished gem, one day to become more than a mere ember in the dark.

by Derek Herzberg

Read More »