Gabriel, King of the Land of Ice and Snow, Part 1(poem)
He waits in determination as the world grows cold
and with time and patience, his fears grow bold.
Even in death, they still have their fears
as poverty and warfare stretch out through the years.
Gabriel, the king of the land of ice and snow
sits hopeful and powerless on his throne
while his subjects breed choas and unrest in the streets
and his kingdom runs wild, impatient, admitting defeat.
He stays up through the night and tries to move on
but how can he step forward if he's only a pawn?
Be good citizens and try as you may,
and always work harder to be on your way.
He writes in a notebook filled with his dreams,
with scratches and scribbles of all he has seen.
Blindly, he talks about a time
when everyone loved him and called him sublime.
His pen describes a day in yesteryear
when he and his family were met with cheers.
Parading down the streets made of ice and snow,
with towering crystals and icicles around,
and chariots drawn white horses into town.
Everyone was happy and cried tears of joy,
it's hard to believe he was a third class boy
who sat on the sidewalk while the wealthy kids played
He never would've guessed things would end up this way.
He looks in the mirror and sees an old man,
broken, invalid, without any plans.
A sigh leaves his body and he looks away,
the winter is leaving and summer will stay.
The notebook is closed and cast aside,
alone and forsaken, he gazes outside.
Dripping icicles that formed protective bars,
now melt in fury as the midnight sun destroys the stars.
His kingdom's in ruins and money comes short,
the people are rioting and killing for sport.
"Gabriel, we think it's time for you to leave"
he hears this in chants and it's haunting his dreams.
But will the world get better if he disappeared?
He thinks this as he discreetly packs his things to go.
Gabriel, the king of the land of ice and snow,
puts on his best duster and goes it alone.
Takes enough to only last him for a few odd months
and in his pocket is a picture of his queen and kids.
He leaves without saying, not giving a hunch.
The frozen door closes as he places a special seal
and it's off to the darkness that he must heal.
His destination is to the wasteland on the edge of time,
the place he was raised and escaped as a child.
He looks over the ruins of where his town used to be,
covered in snow and ash and for miles, it's all he could see.
Falls to his knees and lets out a cry;
he never got the chance to say goodbye.
His home is reduced to a pile of rubble that sat on a hill
and there's nothing left to recognize.
The isolation stands still.
The sky is on fire, the sun without rays
ribbons of light dance, carelessly they play.
On the edge of nowhere, he watches in awe
staring without prejudice at Nature's law.
Across the tundra and over the snowy hill,
palaces of crystal shine, glittering in the sun's rays.
He looks toward them and thinks,
with thoughts of disdain in his head:
How could they have so much control
while others can't get ahead?
View User's Journal
Life...or Something Like it
My journal will probably have links to my blog on Blogstream, a few of my poems, and other thoughts that pop up from time to time.
|
 |
thecrimsonarcher
Community Member |
||||||||||||||||
"Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were, but without it, we go nowhere." ~Carl Sagan
