K.W.Ferguson 39 Charlbrook Avenue Barrie, Ontario, Canada L4M 2Y6 ( 705 ) -739 -8801 e-mail:golding@bconnex.net "Wind Lost" I have watched with silent horror, the escape, Though, these eyes have been afraid to face the truth. As a spectre roams the land, a cold and beaten, bitter man, To plough the wind lost desert of his youth. For the harvest, yellowed deed's, sewed dark domains, In the conscience, yet, some hallowed fields, remained. For common man, the sacred ground, is soiled and harrowed, By the sound, of the never ending, pounding, driving rain. Though, the thorns of living dead had bled this skin, Pain I kept in furrowed leas, I'd wept within. Sadly, somehow, in the fall, seeded sorrow had grown tall, And reaped the bounty of my borrowed sin. As I wandered ravaged meadows of the mind, I recalled the words I'd heard and left behind. In every wood and every spring, there is a different shade of green, But the pasture of the damned is black as night. So, let the wicked raven wail to his desire, As the wheat sheaf and the plough are lost in fire. When the morning sparrow sings, my thoughts borne upon her wings, Then, mine will be the glory of this flight.
Reason for writing:
I escaped from a medium security prison on August 26 1994(Yes, I was caught).This poem is a combination of that event and child abuse when I was very young, and how the two events culminated into an effort to run from that which sometimes scares us the most;ourselves
Birth sign: Not entered
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