An Anguished Poet

Casting dark upon a vacant page Ghosts appear expressing rage, And mirrored too in grim despair Troubles loom of which I bear! Tho’ each thought lay blesséd not, Yet my demons there are wrought And shadows shift upon each line, For alas these torments thus are mine! Great sorrows many hold my fate, As for release I yet relate To restless spirits from the grave; Alas, I plead on line and stave! Endowed in mist lairs the beast That upon my soul doth come to feast, As upon the wind it wings to flight Thru the silence, late at night! The phantoms rise amidst my words, Like tempest flocks of angry birds That reproach this bitter soul in me; O’ thus an anguished poet be!