“The Reckless Raging Fury…”
Like most of my poetry, this one found me in the first line and stole my mind in the second. Every personal emotion I feel always seems to connect to a greater purpose, which distracts me like a romantic dog after a Platonic squirrel.
The Cost of the Caravel
Anger rumbles over withered heathlands
Wars with stormy dangers in death-charged air
Blasts the bastions of the bracing weather
Calling to the boys below “Beware”
Beware of weary wanton wandering
Watch the steady drums which whisper “Doom”
Never listen, never give their savage rhythm
Any moment, any right to build your tomb
Fury and frustration fuel cruel forges
Anger asks for men and wheat to sift
Brace your brain and body for the answers
Raise sword and shield until the battle shifts
Your fragile breath is fading, frail and fleeting
The greatest men but grasp at fallen stars
The bravest are yet too weak to tame tomorrow
All finally fail with crushed and maddened hearts
Rumbling air will rend your heartfelt choices
Shreds of shipwrecked sails slip to the ground
But the King’s cloth and call lift high His banner
That scarred and sunken souls may soon be found
Give me a follow above and check out some of my other work here. If you have any fondness or familiarity with G. K. Chesterton, check out my publication where I dive into the perilous passages of his delightful book ‘Orthodoxy’!
Thanks for reading!
