Nothing Worked

Seeking peace,
absolution,
redemption,

I slept for hours.

It did not work. 

I awoke unchanged.
I lay down again
in the still-dark 
of the post-dawn
bedroom; lay dreaming,
wishing myself  
toward some penance
to excuse myself,
some vision
to explain myself, 
some pain to serve
as sacrifice
and re-admission fee;

nothing worked.  

I was not released though
I flew, long flights
over grand countries
where I could not touch down,
cities and forests
full of safety below;

nothing worked.

What works?  
I ask the sky and 
all the soil, I ask
all the waters.

If I have to sleep
longer, I will. If I have to 
wake into fire, I will.
If peace is only to be found
in a crash
and my own ashes,

I will burn,

for I have been flying 
in my sleep seeking
what works 
all my life
and half into

the next
and I do not think
I can believe 
in a safe landing
anymore.

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About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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