In The Wild

by Dec 7, 2009Poetry

I was standin’ in the threatening wild,
like a motherless, desolated child
looking for a way to a decent home.
Maybe the forest will give me some.
The tender curves of reaching branches
sing up to me like elven wenches,
and the flowers on the distant hillside
spark like angels in pure snow-white.
Only that weird, monster-eyed darkness
and the creeping shadows of blindness,
they bother my mind, when the rosy lights die,
and the Moon raises up to the sky,
’cause the darkness whispers
and I don’t know why.


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