dusk arising

dark places

 

 

beneath the leaden shawl of self doubt
lurks poisoned potion of long witheld
acceptance of abuse and soul crushing
denial of ego constraining complacency
marking out the shame of victimhood
  
dark places visit my mind to amplify
a scream which travels on and on
wrecking into the confidence of past
where thought was reassured with love
but now undermined in worthlessness

 

would today the wholesome blackbird evensong
of loves yesterday share their love anew
with this torn state of being in which i am
torturously wrecked to endure it\'s whole?
now - am I - was I ever - worthy of that grasp?


           though
.          yet again somehow
           the spirit of my beloved blackbird sings
           to the eve of the day
           and life within it\'s tortured field
           holds a promise
           from i know not where
           but to question such...
           finds those darkened places
           where i shy away
           seeking light
           from yesteryear\'s delight...
           though fool be I
           to linger there