A SHROUDED SECRET

	by Levon Keushkerian


	If only I was a poet.
	I could portray the earth's entire beauty
	And have my pen draw nature. 
	But instead of lilies I find ivy 
	That shrouds my potential
	And instead of the wind's soft touch,
	I feel the heat from the fire of my trapped soul

	If only my stroke could show me my love
	And tell her that I miss her gentle touch.
	Yet my heart seems to take me to quiet pastures
	Only to lead me to a cliff and bid me adieu
	For you, my bitter flame, my sanity hangs on the edge
	Begging you to show me my future, so that my soul can rest today

	If only I could create a tower of words
	Whose tip can pierce the sky
	And create a tempest among stars
	My great yet unreachable goal
	Is it possible that my hidden dreams can transform?
	So that my unanswered prayers find me once again?

	If only I had a golden tongue
	Whose words would sprout flowers in the air
	And carry with them the seeds of my soul.
	But No, the wind does not carry my words out
	But brings me the chill of despair

	I wait for fate to create for my heart
	An antidote for life's poisons
	And cure me of my loneliness
	Yet in vain does this ink stir 
	My abstractions to concrete,
	My thoughts to words

	And with the pain of unfulfilled expectations
	My thoughts fool me to dwell on the past
	To disavow the present and live unhappily
	And I remain, an abandoned man, with a message to preach 
	But without a voice to tell it


--
Levon Keushkerian resides in Pasadena, California. He is a BA in History
from Cal Poly Pomona and will be attending law school next year. He
has a keen interest in Armenian Poetry, his favorite poets being
Taniel Varoujan, Bedros Tourian, and Vahan Tekeyan. He also
occasionally writes his own.