Before every fencing tournament,
After every match I win,
I stand before our portrait -
Your only reminiscence,
Reaching out to a nothingness
For blessings,
And finding an empty me
Reflected upon the glass,
Asking my tears in dismay:
What’s the use rummaging debris
From the repository of nothingness
Desperately seeking a shadow
A non-entity,
Long dissolved into darkness?

A voice then echoes
From my deepest recesses:
Nevertheless – respect the shadow;
For it taught you the martial art
Of patience and perseverance,
And made you a gladiator,
A resourceful samurai -
In the colosseum of life.

by Hazel Nut

Comments (2)

I agree thus is remarkable poetry
Wonderfully descriptive piece!