When the candles gutter
and the bedsheets entangle me
in the convolutions of an
indistinctly menacing emptiness,
and i wander like a lost child
through gaping chasms of
the unfamiliar terrain of loneliness--
When the light flickers
like a moth against the face
of this black world
and my soul is flailed
in the silent faces
of loves lost in time,
and I feel the nails
driving me through;
when there is nothing to forgive,
and the penance seems
too light--
It is in these times of horror
when the town clock
rings only a moment,
and the echos follow me
out of the bedroom
and through the door,
that I wish you were with me;
only you can dispell this horror.
poem,
illusration and web page by JASON PAUL FOX
You MUST credit my authorship when reproducing this poem in any way!
(It's OK to give my poem to friends or people at school, if you credit me
and don't make money off it)
copyright
2007 Jason Paul Fox