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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Friday, May 17, 2013

The Forest of Despair


Artwork by Chelsea Bednar
You do not want to enter this forest
Though I have dwelt here forever,
I still do not know it
Its labyrinthine trails lead in circles
or straight to nowhere
Time does not follow rules here
Minutes last for weeks and yet
years disappear in a second
Sorrow hangs
like a wet wool blanket
from the limbs of trees
which have never seen the sun
You do not want to enter this forest
I am beyond rescue
I have lived so long in darkness
that I have forgotten how to even hope