Down this dark street. Poem, by David Wakeling, at My poetic side

Even if you close your eyes, and skulk in the shadows,

The old fading lights can still be seen, on this dark street,

They shine oddly bright, like the cold smiles of widows,

The first one you see will remain until death’s defeat,

Lighting your way, revealing two paths up ahead,

One path for pure evil, one for the noble mind,

One is a cold hard rock path meant for the walking dead,

The other is of grass and flowers, tempting the kind.

As you look through the plain glass, pointed at yesterday,
The past is always fading away like a freight train.

Some will find out they have only one message to say,

Infinite disappointment as you smile alone in pain.

To count the grains of sand, and number the royal stars,

To see the light, and know truths greater than the purpose,

Three miracles of light, life and love all leaving scars,

The trip down this dark street is a day at the circus.

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