A Transient Impression, Half Forgotten

from by Corbad



i am
the failed fruit
the futile child
who never grew
but longs to die

i am
the damaged dream
the backwards flesh
who never seems
to do his best

i am
the squandered sperm
the broken egg
who never earns
but will not beg
(for death)

i am
the bastard dirt
the homeless seed
who has no worth
that no one sees

i am
the neverend
andthe false start
no joy within
my wrinkled heart


Estuaries flow
endlessly from snow
eaten peaks. But no:
even they must stop.

Every ember choked;
everything, like smoke,
ebbs away. A yoke
even I must drop.

Exit this mortal
egg: scream, push, and pull.
Enter the jeweled
earth, come and gone.

eagle-eyed to see
exactly how I
end, God looks on.


from Alone Before the Doors of the Silent House, released July 21, 2017


tags: folk Canada


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Corbad British Columbia

We will sit on the edge of ruin and talk.

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