fragmented words

@Uootem

absurd, futile, hopeless, irrelevant, pointless,
searching through my use-tattered thesaurus,
sifting across the pages with too many dog-ears,
I know there must be some word that describes
the value of sentiment left within me...

some fitting words drift through the monotony,
chance significance unascertained by reason
but the poet still adopts them to his purposes
that coagulates into cold granite blocks within his soul.

trenchant chronology of so many passing years
etched on stone walls, with the chisel of yearning
walls left intact for the duration to protect the soul...
but yet only serving to imprison the heart
that is too weak to forget what remains...

can there be in time, meaning in the rambling verses
formed to describe the ages past, when love meant something
meanings dying out, barely a squeak or poetic banter...
in the words formed from lost love promises,
hard-packed between the mortar of time.

rhyming apparitions of memory's hauntings
cast shadows on the pages of the animation
of pen and ultimate flourishing of thought
yet shown emotionless as a rhythm of stark tediousness.

and pages can fill unknowingly
even without the conscious control of the poet.
if there is a present mystery in all the work
it listens rather thoughtfully but saves its timeless dream
where nothing, but everything once shared makes sense.