This Physical Sense
Gone in body alone, I chose,
To walk away from that winding road,
That life once chose for me.
Taken from the physical place,
I chased the dream once displaced,
By what I thought could be.
Sliding down the stairless gaunt,
Against the peerless, fearless haunt,
I rid the ghosts of misery.
Aplaced in wasted land I walked,
Spirited away from meaningless talk,
The words were written carelessly.
The ego and the soul entwined,
Wanders the body and the mind,
Pittered through the eyeline free.
And on my grave they inscribed,
Their hands bruised from writing lies,
The truth bereft from me.
Eoghan Lyng is an Irish man, who has written from Cork, Madrid and Prague. Currently residing in Glasgow, Lyng continues to refine his work. Aided with the ability to write in English and Gaeilge, examples of his work have been published in Vada Magazine, From The LightHouse, An Gael-IrisLeabhar Idirnaisiúnta and his eponymous wordpress account.