Forward

FORWARD

HIS BULK,
SHADOWED THE STAINED OAK OF THE DOORWAY,
AS THE RAIN LACERATED THEGREY OF HIS COAT,
THE LINED FACE OF A OF A TRUE LEADER
A SEEKER DRAWN AND TAUGHT, MIGHTY IN IT'S INTENT.

WITH HIM HIS FAITHFUL SUBALTERN,
STEADIER THAN AMOUNTAIN REACHING SKYWARDS,
THERE WITHIN THE RECESS OF THE STREET,
THEY HAD ARRIVED AT MY DOOR,
DELIVERING ON THAT FATEFUL NIGHT,
THE FUTURE OF AN ENTIRE FUTURE,
DECISIONS TO AFFECT AN ENTIRE CONTINENT,
IN THE PASSING OF A FEW WORDS,
THAT COULD NOT BE SAID WITHOUT IT'S SHRILL BARK,
FOR AS THE OAK DOOR SWUNG,
SO DID THE ORDERS UPON MY EARS RESOLVE ME,
FORWARD INTO THE NIGHT WITH NO BACKWARD THOUGHT.

by Barry Conway

Comments (1)

Except for the all-caps style, the poem is mesmerizing, strong, and full of depth. Scary future, though.