Here, in the dark, I can't move on.
The path is lost, the light is gone.
No star above to show the way
Nor mem'ry of a brighter day .
I can't go on, I can't be led,
I have a rock stuck in my head
All night I roll it here around
On the painful stony ground.
I ask... how did it some to this?
What did I do, what did I miss?
Exhausted in the dark I lie
Below the black and midnight sky
Faint the light of early dawn
A ghost of me finds here forlorn.
The sun as she begins to rise
shows me the world. With open eyes,
At my feet among the rubble,
The rock I had, a tiny pebble
I like to write short stories which come from my Welsh roots with a sprinkle of magic and mysticism.
As an autistic person my poetry often reflects my experience of existence, and is an expression of being neurodiverse.
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E. Travelli 