He turns and glances back at the shadows
That prey upon him when the mind ticks away
At the night’s endless pace;
While, the moon stares out in full face.
This is when solitude must have him
Alone for eternity; a stolen place.
Age stirs him with doubts of grace
As his body and mind bend and break with change;
What were once beautiful dreams
Blossomed now - into twisted screams
Awakening the angels and beasts
That rule his undefined soul – it seems.
Listen, the
beasts have something to teach:
That without darkness there are angels
With wings of kindness
To sooth away mother’s hardness
And bring forth dawn’s kind of blue
The keeps hidden the moments of less.
No comments:
Post a Comment