The Passing Poem by Thomas Foreman

The pain of a thousand lies,
buried deep
The loss of another tear & my soul,
cries for sleep
Symbolic thoughts,
entwine in mystical inversion
Diversive structure,
carries in rhythmic conversion
Darkening seas,
appease in wicked madness
Under a skies cry,
in mourning blackness
Alienating shapes,
loom blind in forbidding remorse
Threatening hills,
roll out in an unfamiliar force

The forest fall back into their shadows, twisting & intertwining
In unfavorable expression
The land behind me recedes as a darkening mirage, strengthening
In continual oppression
The Sea as a vast blackening bubble begins to swell & flatten
into a formless skin.
The moons appearance turns a now deep red of blood from an
Unwelcoming akin

As He waves the wand of life they fall back beyond possibilities
Yet stood there standing upon disbelief's & built-up dreams
False prophets are being sown in grounds of ascetic sorcery
They send out mutilating waves of false reality which reason in
Non-existence, the dawn of life has taken away their eternal peace

For all those open to doubt arise forth & confront what is to be a
Recipient as an admiration for the dissipated devotion for peace
There is no gain leeway for the bargaining of liability in the
Judgment of all life. The seed of death has sprouted as a result of
Distorted prosperity & the philosophy of the confused.

©T.W. Foreman