Auckland New Zealand
The Confines of the Mind
What predatory forces find
The fissured confines of the mind !
Where gnarled hobgoblinís sharpened pick
With sins long past, does conscience prick.
In inglenooks with balustrades
Where ghosts sip tainted lemonades;
With poisoned darts they irk and needle,
Spook and startle, twist and wheedle.
Oh! How those visions, dark and ghoulish
Haunt the wakes of actions foolish.
Wherein black spectres of regret
In wraith-like form, their vengeance get.
They feed on notions of the lustful
Drink betrayalís wine distrustful,
Yet unassuaged, their appetites
Will prey in dark, tormenting nights.
For none escape their gruesome hand;
Realityís no perfect land.
Its battleground, in truth must lie
In human mind..... not earth or sky.
How certain he must end in tears
Who takes no counsel of the years;
Nor heeds the words of sages past
Who fathomed how manís die was cast.
So bitter come the tempterís thanks
For those who dwell within his ranks
In selfish quest, for their tomorrow
Comes in darkness....... draped with sorrow.
©1999 Rod Walford