Poetry

Return to the Plains

By Marcus Pan

Come to me where the sun don't shine.

Into recesses of the mind.

You'll never know the things you find.

Buried in the ashes of mispent time.

All alone where breezes sigh.

Solitude Plains is where I lie.

Now again must lay down and cry.

Reaching deeper behind the eyes.

Beyond the reasoning is a darker side.

A place to dwell or go to hide.

Reflections flow throughout the tide.

Errant thoughts out for a ride.

Solitude Plains is where I cry.

Solitude Plains is where I lie.

The above poem is an excerpt from the Sixth Journal of Marcus Pan. This was entry 52, dated July 26, 1997, at 1:11 AM.