Our Infinity

Life goes on,
continents divide,
and love is suppressed
and fails to come alive.
We march to our infinity,
never a second to waste
as figures flicker passed
like phantoms from the past.
Regrets are lost
as is sometimes love,
never to be regretted
in the existence we have sown.
Failing hands reach out
for something to grasp
and all they clutch
is empty air.
Puzzles remain unsolved
and mysteries remain
mysteries, never solved,
Love bargains at the table
never won or lost,
but like a deflowered virgin
sometimes aside are tossed.
On the precipice of mankind,
we teeter on the edge
waiting for the hand
on our shoulder to fall
and the voice our name to call.

28 July 2010

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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