Art, God, Life, Poetry, Writing

Roadkill on the Highway

Life is passing me by while I lay;

the days, hours and minutes float away.

I reach my hand out for a touch,

but like smoke know not what is there.

My love, my legacy, my life;

lingers in the quiet moments before dawn.

The beacons of fire hesitate to shine,

watching others in the ache of ecstasy.

Relationships with those who say they care,

but words lie unspoken but do I dare?

Everybody moves on and ever on,

left friendless as I watch them depart.

RoadkillA faint heart beats in the chaos,

drumming the rhythm of life’s chanting.

Lingering in the moments of the aftermath,

collateral damage left easily behind.

Yet, something and someone else this way comes,

a veiled presence of something more.

A sensation of intimacy like water ripples,

sending shivers across my tattered skin.

Rising from the ashes I struggle to be reborn,

a reckoning that darkness does not comprehend.

We were meant for more than mere footnotes,

created for a transcendence of death.

~Mark Schutter ©2014


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