Castle Of Thought

Cold stone bricks,
A Castle of thought,
Holding feelings of myself
A cold starving prisoner.
A frigid chill
Seeps through cracks,
Cold are the thoughts of man,
Freezing the dark center.
Depraved of light
under Depression’s rule
Darkness surrounds the cell.
Walls with no windows
A castle of thought
Which keeps the soul hidden
In the icy domain
Of the Baron Depression.

Then comes an invasion on the wall
Threatening the peace of pity
And its lord Depression.
A siege of poetry
And self esteem
Its champion: Love.
Worry the dwellings
Of the castle of thought.
Bombardments rock
my small dark cell
visions of being crushed
during the confusion of battle
Frightens my starving spirit.

A war of virtue
At odds since the beginning
oppose each other on the
Fields of forever,
Neither ready to surrender,
Armies willing to perish
For control over my human soul.
An internal battle
taking its toll
On Baron’s castle of thought.
Warriors of ideals
Wasted on bloody moors
Ghastly Scavengers flock
On black wings
To pick their bones clean.
The ravens are at the wall
Eating what remains of
Depression’s dark armies.
The sovereign leader of
Darkness and dread
Escapes to devise
A tactic for another day

Love’s warm light filters through
Small splits rend in the bricks
And my cage flies open.
I am free to bathe in the sun’s
Hot golden rays.
I celebrate in feast and dance
around the fire of joy
kindled in the center
Of what is left of the castle of thought.
Love has released me
from bondage and chains,
Into the arms of my Queen,
Jubilation.

We plan a new home
her and I
with daisies and roses,
white picket fences
And all that is beautiful to view
We call it our Cottage of hope.
so all that remains is
loves blazing light
Forever there until
Future dark days.

by Heath Harrington

Other poems of HARRINGTON (16)

Comments (7)

a wonderful theme with a perfect metaphor, depticing the inner chaos and inner strife so well
Heath! you are a very deep poet, i love your style, i love the way you put words in motion, i love feeling good reading your poems regards Bob
Heath! you are a very deep poet, i love your style, i love the way you put words in motion, i love feeling good reading your poems regards Bob
I love the wonderful way you just sink into this poem...whatever you call it, depression has a way of finding us all...we call it chasing the black dog...great work....excellent piece
a wonderful deep vision...great write...
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