by Bob Church
Copyright 08-11-2001
My Darkness Within
Daylight shadows, not much sun around,
formed within me for the taking,
but who would venture, without sound,
into a land of dross so forsaking.
Presences denied but nevertheless there,
staging areas, backburners rearranging,
carried…. wisps of silent air,
unto gloss sentiment so embracing.
Scurrying nebulous into the cold,
harbingers daring no nimbus of fluff,
enterprise born of legend so bold,
wondering if it’s got the right stuff.
Bear on! coward befouled of crass envy,
fall you short of your oft-stated vow,
muggering midst those whom you feign frenzy,
or cravenly sink where you lay, fetid sow.
Blash and blight! Steel to fight!
Curse the gods! Steal the day!
Walk among wizards bereft of fine light,
or hunker between them, be held in their sway.
Legions of lesions swarm into dank furrows,
crusting to form in a wound which lies bare,
no sweet adornment to cover their burrows,
no pleading for dignity- nothing to share.
So rage at the light as well as the dark,
kiss the sweet angels and curse the black death,
nothing lies twixt you and worlds lain apart,
but slack-jawed wheezing and sweet baby’s breath.