Sea Of Faces

[zyphryn]

Sea of Faces

I sit crooked in the dimmest corner watching the sea of faces go by.

The gaze of a distant mourner catches on the narrow of my eye.

The grin that draws me closer to causes my spirits to evacuate.

" A shell of " is all I'm left; Too am I left a brief time to evaluate....

Down in a home now polarized was I brought into this breath.

Soon after, to me, was galvanized the quixotic manners of death.

A single voice called the dawn, with a stench drenched in fire.

Three children this being spawned: the Sordid, the Timid, the Liar.

Released into the crowded waters were these three so incomplete;

The wraths they were to incur would summon mighty fleets.

Defeated and captured by armadas whose aim was total reform,

They were each left on peninsulas to either disintegrate or conform.

As I look out from the shore at the freedom of the sea of faces,

My best I did to argue and implore that I deserve the chance to go places.

The headmaster leered, then locked-- this I've seen many times hence.

His mouth was loaded and cocked-- again, my pleas were dispensed.

Meanwhile, on the other isles, them two broke their levees.

I heard they traveled many miles but their loads grew too heavy.

Wish I saw this from afar.... the “pensâ€, though, were too near.

From their wilderness came my scars, although some were made right here.

One escaped, kept himself unseen; the other was there and back.

She's the one with the ivory sheen, which once so often turned to black.

Here I travel from here to there, made believe I was righteous:

The truth was I shouldn't have cared instead of pretending to be chivalrous.

Today I see from a window high the sea of faces easily drift along.

The dream I dream is to say goodbye but my will isn't that strong.

Up here in my silent, quiet abode, I script a show never to be done:

A story of a life on a stoic road with everyplace available to run.

The maps are open at my feet, all roads out blaze green neon.

This one I stay on, it's no treat but its destination I lean on.

Those others are not so familiar, with names like Onus and Duty.

The winds on this are much cleaner-- I avoid the ones which blow sooty.

Stern voices greet this creed saying someone must be served.

You are not wrong, I agreed, though this you must observe:

The choice of who I follow is one that I'll always hold;

As soon as I find one to swallow like you, I'll be in the fold.

When the winds carry off my dust, will I be proud of my traces?

How will my remnants be discussed, those passed to another sea of faces.

When my footsteps become hardened, will someone fill in their spaces?

How far will my path be trodden; will one emerge from tomorrow's sea of faces?

[Steel2Velvet]

Welcome to Songfacts, Ralph! Some nice stuff in this piece. I especially like the combination of words, "The gaze ... catches on the narrow of my eye" and "sit crooked in the .. corner." I felt the strongest rythmic scheme were the two lines:

"A single voice called the dawn, with a stench drenched in fire.

Three children this being spawned: the Sordid, the Timid, the Liar."

A highly introspective poem, this was a pleasure to read; though the subject dealt with angst. The pleasure came from seeing the way you wove your words throughout. I look forward to more of your posts.