Time
written by: Logan A. Ghast
@L_Ghast
A silence like waves—
a crest. a crescendo then crashing,
then a trough—
a current which sweeps along
thoughts and deeds,
dragging under all meaning
And the world it waits eternally
Memory fails, the torch to guide
through the hollowness of the mind
Madness unravels, time unwinds,
somewhere between
falsehood and truth
The spirit is an empty womb
And life it waits eternally
Logan A. Ghast
I am a resident of Illinois, born in 1995.
A poet by nature, perhaps, I began to practice the art of poetry seriously several years ago, around age 13, although I wrote some of my very first poems much earlier. It is a medium which I am instinctively drawn to.
I was very inquisitive from a young age as well, spending much time alone thinking, questioning, philosophizing you might say.
My interest in poetry and the practice and study of philosophy has grown much sense then, and much of my poetry is, and has been, about my personal search for truth and the experiences I have had in search of it.
Being a "closeted" poet, if you will, for some time, I am finally attempting to branch out gain some exposure. The hope, the goal of my poetry is that it might resonate with or assist others in their own search for truth.
A poet by nature, perhaps, I began to practice the art of poetry seriously several years ago, around age 13, although I wrote some of my very first poems much earlier. It is a medium which I am instinctively drawn to.
I was very inquisitive from a young age as well, spending much time alone thinking, questioning, philosophizing you might say.
My interest in poetry and the practice and study of philosophy has grown much sense then, and much of my poetry is, and has been, about my personal search for truth and the experiences I have had in search of it.
Being a "closeted" poet, if you will, for some time, I am finally attempting to branch out gain some exposure. The hope, the goal of my poetry is that it might resonate with or assist others in their own search for truth.
