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Blanc-nine |
In the dark of this lonely night,
It’s as if nothing ever went right;
I lie in wait at the moment,
Reveling in the light of this torment.
Lightning cuts into the heavens,
A sudden flash as the dark sky leadens;
And worse than words left unspoken,
The solemn reverie just halts — broken.
Bitterness seeps into these tears,
As the black rain pours in endless fears; then —
Thunder roars across the distance,
As though in great sync with this circumstance.
The rage of my turmoil goes on,
Even as the storm ends, and there is down;
Only remnants of a blank shell
Are what’s left of this melancholic spell.
copyright 2009
Kathrine
David |
