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Open Poetry #39
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A voice calls out (An old duet with Janet Marie)
| Open Poetry #39 |
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A voice calls out (An old duet with Janet Marie) |
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Walter Poe Senior Member
since 1999-10-13
Posts 787 |
I'm posting this poem from a long time ago to go with my challenge standing in the 'Poetry challenge' page if you haven't seen it yet go there and take it. You may just make someones day. And if JM does read this where have you gone miss your poems (I know i have been missing a while). Hope this might bring you back. For a visit at least. In the shadows, in the darkness ... a voice calls out to me. Be it from heaven or hell, be it fate or destiny. In the fringes of gray, I witness a distant spark of light. There with in the silence .. I see a poets soul embraced by night. Danceing in the oft told nights A voice of reason, Now dead despite eternal hills in eternal light, Fallen from grace Another battle's bitter haste Yet still we look away From our poet's innocent face There is a certain comfort ... that the darkness persuades. peace of solitude entrusted, as night's shadows silently invade. A poets soul placed in ofference, by words of sorrow's sound. confessions of an innocence lost, haunted by ghosts of our past... to which we are eternal bound. In the space we stay between night and day the words we have found love and darkness connect in the nights dark shroud lost in harmony another bitter sound yet all create a message And upon hearing we will drown Those who know the night's secrets ... search the dark with sympathetic eyes. Speaking words of understanding, pleas to lift the shadows of pain's disguise. While angels of poetry share their souls with kind intention ... in the darkness they are free to cry, from the losses they cant mention. In every heart they will record Another of this worlds' dread demise Another kiss on sullen lips met with only those same dead eyes yet poets voice will not revise a tainted word and so shatter good intentions walk with me i'll show you things the pain and the pleasure gained from lies. An end has come to the poets run our times have not always been sweet an endless stream of nightmare Perhaps not my original intention but these are the words i came here to mention Yet my friends i was taken now i see perhaps i need the love the dark that has not been able to find in me. Do not go gentle into that good night. |
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