By Evan Mantyk

Get this thing out of my mind,
It should never undermine,
It should go and let me be,
It should go and I’ll be free!

Tear it out from in my heart,
From its madness I can part,
From its gladness I can leave,
From its sadness feel reprieve!

Give me quiet from this thing,
Let the angels to me sing,
Let their beauty touch my skin,
Cleanse it of this rotten sin.

Fling me through the air of night
To a tiny cliff respite,
Hanging over emptiness,
Hidden in the safe abyss.

Let it pass now overhead
While I pretend to be dead,
Like a fire let it burn
Till it uses all its yearn.

Till it’s drowned in waves of night,
Waves of empty endless fright,
Waves of passion now destroyed,
Like a child losing his toy.

Like a child losing his toy?
That pathetic little boy,
For the moment is annoyed
Till something new soon employs.

Now the fickle flames have died
I forget just why I cried,
Something changed and time gone by,
Floating like a carefree sigh…

Like fragrant winds rushing over valleys
Passing through a pleasant small town’s alleys,
And mingling with the whispers of faeries,
Who dance beneath trees and over prairies.

 

Evan Mantyk is a newspaper editor, writer, and poet living in Harrison, New York. He is president of the Society of Classical Poets.


NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who harasses or disrespects you. Simply send an email to submissions@classicalpoets.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comment or comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.