Cachonne

poem, Poetry, Writing 1 Minute

The destiny of skies and objective ties,

My wrist have grown weaker by all means,

Pushing the weight of artificial suffering,

To horizons that fade with every tinge,

As a man’s skin hardens,

I clasp my hands in religious fervor,

As the Chaconne hums the sorrow of my past,

Am I a man in spite of my weakness,

Or is that my respite?

Published by ruckwarrior

From the desert sands to the wilderness to the writing pad is where you'll find me these days. I'm a veteran turned storyteller writing about life and war. I capture the human experience through fresh eyes, compassion, and an open heart. Vulnerability and candidness are the lifeblood to my storytelling. My writing encompasses war, life after war, the outdoors, the reality and struggles we all face while living as guests on this earth, and joy that can be had once we discover ourselves.

Published

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