| Poem |
 
|
The Key by Keith Kitchen
 (2 ratings)
|
The combinations are infinite,
The answers are few.
Arrows are pointing me
In the direction of you.
Wonders are great,
Explanations are few.
I've come to the crossroads,
I know not what to do.
The powers seduce me
And spiral me around,
My muscles tense as
I hear a high-pitched sound.
Someone is speaking,
Neither good nor bad,
Explaining in detail
Experiences I have had.
Now, a light shines upon me,
I know not the source.
A voice converses silently,
Plotting my eventual course.
An ending, a beginning,
A symptom of life.
A Father, a mother,
The beginning of a life.
Jewels shine brightly,
Crimson and green,
Reminding me slowly
Of events I have seen.
Reality beckons,
Calling me forth from my dream
To show me destruction,
Perversion, how obscene!
Now, a child cries,
His new life begins.
Wash him, Father, wash him!
Cleanse him of his sins!
Soon he shall grow
And ask the questions anew;
Why are the combinations infinite
And the answers so few?
Yet, no-one shall answer him,
This shall he find.
At his questions, peers will laugh
And treat him unkind.
However; his eyes shall eventually open,
Allowing him to see:
The answers are so simple,
He alone holds the key.
| |
