Murmurings of a Profane Wanderer

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Open Poetry #43

Murmurings of a Profane Wanderer

peter griffin
Member

since 2008-03-06

Posts 56

0 posted 2008-12-01 05:16 PM

Murmurings of a Profane Wanderer

In the darkness,
One cannot see,
Differentiation between reality and Reality occurs just this side of never,
In the darkness,
All but the most prominent forms remain hazy.

Scattered,
Seemingly haphazardly,
By an owl,
There exist night lights,
Here and there,
In the darkness,
Shrouded by deception,
There lies the source of their illumination,
And a secret,
It was not haphazardly,
That bulb is arrogant,
Perhaps they all are,
We won't know,
Ever.

The light shed is weak,
In the darkness,
One stumbles often,
The gaps between the areas of distorted shadows,
Shadows cast within the reach of one lumen,
They serve only to distort the true nature of what the lumen reveals,
The space between is vast,
It cannot be properly filled.

Images form,
A barren wasteland,
In the darkness,
Confusion ensues,
Ensures victory for the predators.

Those are not night lights,
No one seems to notice,
In the darkness,
How could they?

Midnitesun

Member Empyrean

since 2001-05-18

Posts 28647
Gaia

1 posted 2008-12-02 03:17 PM

There is an ominous feel to this piece. I am sensing impending doom lurking within those shadows of false illumination, the source of which is intentionally masked by darkness.

peter griffin
Member

since 2008-03-06

Posts 56

2 posted 2008-12-02 05:21 PM

Well then I'd say you're right.

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