To William

Unrewarding sound ruins a peaceful sleep

The time awakens my deepened soul,

Every morning, without a doubt, scarring my life

Hands of mine,

Taint Mother Nature’s creation

Back and forth, forth and back

Lost mind wandering beaten tracks

Mountainous regions, a hefty challenge to climb

Body’s tear cries for comfort

Temple of mine, defaced for no true man

Limp, driftwood I become.

Andrew Cole 30/06/2009