"The Night Bivouac of Napoleon's Army" by Vasily Vereshchagin‘Despair’ by James A. Tweedie The Society August 28, 2017 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 2 Comments Poet’s Note: “Back when I was eighteen years old, things were sort of grim with the Vietnam War and my draft status up in the air. I had just graduated from high school the week before and was considering what my future might hold. The word ‘Despair’ popped into my head and, with all the wisdom available to me at that ripe old age, I put pen to paper and wrote out a poem…” Accurséd be thou dark Despair, Who covers o’er Joy’s golden hair. And layest waste all happiness With slyness of a sorceress. Thou dwellest deep within the earth Wherein thy mother gave thee birth. Thy mother Doubt, they father Woe, Thou art indeed a mighty foe Who conquers e’en the mighty Jove And turns aside the stubborn Love, As Clytemnestra soon did learn On Agamemnon’s late return. Within the heart of man you go To plant the seeds of Doubt and Woe. It makes no difference, strongest, weakest, The heart which least expects, Thou seekest. Despised Depression is Thy son Who grabs a hold when Thou hast won. But He is but a flickering shade, Who leavest when the soul is frayed. But Thou, Despair, Thou stayest longer, For You must always be the stronger. Beneath the fair Apollo’s flight All lands Thou roam where there is light. The mystic Nile, the swift Euphrates, Where no light shines in deepest Hades. There is no place where man can flee To be, from Thee, secure and free. I cannot run from Thee to hide For in Thy realm I must abide. But as my days on earth are spent, I ask that Thou be lenient. James A. Tweedie is a recently retired pastor living in Long Beach, Washington. He likes to walk on the beach with his wife. He has written and self-published four novels and a collection of short stories. He has several hundred unpublished poems tucked away in drawers. Related Post ‘Beneath Brambles’ and Other Poetry by Karen She... Beneath Brambles A villanelle Beneath the tangled brambles, look around. Vines creeping, smothering, create the dark. A trillium insists her blo... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail 2 Responses Kathy F. August 28, 2017 Excellent poem, very well-written, and undoubtedly destined to endure throughout the ages! Reply James A. Tweedie September 3, 2017 Someone has chosen a powerful picture to accompany my poem. Imagine the despair of lying down to sleep for the night in the bitter cold knowing that you and your companions will not awake to see the morning. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.