Sketches Of Ennui

I

When you look into my eyes, I wonder –
If at times – you see the setting sun
Releasing the last spears of light as it
Drearily dips out of sight

II

Shoulders hunched
I sit crouched on a chair
In front of me, on a table
Is a crumpled sheet of paper
On which is scribbled
A few incoherent lines
Which beckons me into a world
Of inchoate form
And candle wax tears
Where hope lies encircled
In the shadowy wings,
The interstitial silences
Of doubt

III

Sprawling vacant spaces
Hollow gorges
Stubborn tufts of dry grass
Exposed by the razor edged sun
Kiss the horizon
Anaesthetised moments
Pregnant with nothingness
Wallowing in gruesome grotesquery
Crawl around and knot each other
Like overfed worms

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Comments (2)

some existential stuff that is...makes one search within
Leonard this is indeed powerful writing. I particularly liked 'Pregnant with nothingness'. Regards, Anita