-by Spencer Meyers
The child with a smile
The light to heal the pain.
The boy whose heart will yearn
The ‘romantic’ used in vain.
Unwanted and forgettable,
Pitied with a mask…
Lost or but wounded
Life becomes a task.
Bound forever to his heart
Trampled in the game.
Blind to the patterns
It breaks all the same.
Alone to his desires
Afraid or confused
Dreamer of the dreams
In fear of being used…
The King was quickly lost
Early in the game-
Conquered by the Queen
losing frame by frame.
The Hermit, self emerging ,
The pain yet to be sold-
And he- the pitied child
In youth yet much too old…
Spiritual and centered
If only he could share
His faith, beliefs uncertain
And yet he will not dare-
Downward spirals The Hermit
So very odd and queer
Sees much light surround him
But is that what he fears?
O’ the shadows of one’s solace
And the room that is so cold;
The light is all around him
Too happy? Or too bold?
Craving love once had
Craving light divine
Shades of self-destruction
Makes happiness sublime-
No one would understand
This mask the Hermit wears.
Confused and just surviving
Remembering the love he bares…
The Hermit, the man
Who appears so wise…
Alone within his room
As but a child he cries.
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| "The Hermit"- Watercolor by Spencer Meyers |
