Thread: The Goal

1
He missed the life of molting mares
For what he knew was nothing rare
What he wants, he cannot feel
In the coils of the eel
Its golden thunder deeply shocks
The stoning ache of flying rocks
And why – asks he who made the goal
Why with the win am I not whole?

2
He knows the pain is left to pass
It gave its share of broken glass
That misery so often he felt
His wisdom promised, in time would melt
And yet it burns the dying flame
That flickers dull but scores the same
And why – asks he who earned his gift
Why still through blades I sorely sift?
3
The gift is precious, the light is strong
The love is everlasting long
But yet with aches of ancient source
It strikes the heart, it runs its course
He knows still healing is the pain
For it once left a bleeding stain
And why – asks he who cleansed the wound
Why in this scar I feel marooned?
4
He practiced much, he took the field
And with the ball he did not yield
He pressed it on, he made the grade
From the inception, had it made
But now in rain he stands alone
Still humbled by that angry drone
And why – asks he who made the goal
Why with the win am I not whole?

Loved the epic feel of this. Specially enjoyed the third stanza. Looking forward to reading more of your work.

i think the fourth stanza stands alone as a poem