Demons lurking in the dark
While kids drive to the park
Taking time to wine and dine
There’s no more cross to line.
Hacking bridges, burning trees
No one listens to the pleas
Of preachers or teachers seen
As corrupters in between.
“In between what,” one might ask?
“There is no such thing to mask.
“Speak ye truth or make thy bed;
“Hell, just get it on ahead.”
None can foretell nor foresee
What ag’ny ‘waits those with greed,
As death creeps its shady way
I say, pray friend, you must pray.
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: January 4th, 2024 23:54
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments1
Fascinating and delightfully rendered with excellent imagery and an intriguingly haunting poignancy. Thank you for sharing.
Yay! So glad you found this! Thank you for finding it and for your time and feedback! Always appreciated, my friend! 🖤🙏🦇🐦⬛🕯️
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