Dissipating Spirit Poem by Maurice Rowlands

My spirit
Poor thing
Has stumbled across a treasure chest
With a broken lock

Like a broken clock
With no chime
Or correct time
Poor thing
My spirit will still sing
With no hate

Or just dissipate

I will vanish
And return
With a key
And see
If I can banish
That broken lock
Or burn
That broken clock

Like an extinct flower
That no-one will remember
There is the power
Of unique beauty and majesty
Or from a dying fire
With that one burning ember
Where fading power
Is the travesty
I will find the strength
To turn
That lock

And once again
Again and again

I shall wait

Or just dissipate