‘Weather (or not?)’

by Alexander Walls

The night is dark. The rain – it lashes down,
Its persistent pattering, dolorous
To my ears. The dull, sombre sky has drained.
Hearing the downhearted drops of the rain,
I think of such boundless, untold concepts.
But, like the rain, I find myself discharged,
Resigned to the asseveration from
Above. Now I am drained, delusional.

The day is bright. The sun – its beaming light
Coruscating the spires, glorifying
My surroundings. The bright, glad sky charges.
Beholding the radiant beams of light,
I think of such boundless, untold concepts.
And, like the sun, I find I’m enlivened,
Energised by the benevolence all
Around. Now is this still delusional?

It is twilight. The sky – it is sublime,
Awash with such colour, it is calming
To my soul – such serene tranquillity.
Standing pensively, musing the beyond,
I think of such boundless, untold concepts.
Then, like the twilight, the moment is gone,
Lost in the cyclical nature of thought
And time. This is the most unusual.

The Poor Print

Established in 2013, The Poor Print is the student-run newspaper of Oriel College, Oxford. Written by members of the JCR, MCR, SCR and staff, new issues are published fortnightly during term. Our current Executive Editors are Siddiq Islam and Jerric Chong.

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