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Doomed To Feel That Bite And Hear Serpent's Wicked Hiss
Beyond mingling of Light, Matter, Human thought
reams of coils within darkest abyss are there caught
denied rays emitted by our reddish flame sun
wherein single feather may weigh a billion tons
lay boiling cauldrons of spittle and greedy lust
built upon sad foundations of mankind's dying dust!
Immune from wailing tears that victims so oft shed
and morose choked valleys of warriors slow bled
storing loud echoes that darkness holds very dear
are battalions that spreadeth greatest mortal fear
joined in deep agonies with Life and Fated Time
destruction across every place and clime!
Alas! As terror brings woes to humanity
for its wicked deeds, and arrogant vanity
as an unmerciful world, tentacles wide spread
from birth of human flesh until stone-cold and dead
and beneath blue sky and mother earth left to rot
forever gone, dear life, love, and all man has got!
Within coils are lost souls in spinning black abyss,
Doomed to feel that bite and hear serpent's wicked hiss!
R.J. Lindley, July 26th-1990
Dark Rhyme, ( Are Mortals Doomed To This World Stay Blinded And Lost )
( Tribute to Edgar Allen Poe )
Edgar Allen Poe, Two of his most recognizable works
(1.) The Fall of The House of Usher and -,
(2.) Raven - (NOT MENTIONED DIRECTLY, BUT IN SPIRIT GHOSTED)...
Always In Search Of Echoes, Rarely Ever Heard
In silence, I seek deep solitude of my pain
as reclusive ghost drowning in slow flushing drain
spiraling in abyss that destroys precious life
bleeding torrents cut by humanity's sharp knife
suspended above darkness, nothingness below
macabre imagery of late night horror show.
Waking as black-forest burns its long wailing trees
strange image of a sad ghost cut off at its knees
knowing this charade is just a poor poet's dream
fantasy born to hear some more low silent screams
pleading to stop that loud watery, rushing sound
just another victim, not completely hell bound.
In silence, heartbroken among life's dying herd.
Always in search of echoes, rarely ever heard.
R.J. Lindley, June 22nd, 1990
Dark sonnet, ( Well Beyond Midnight's Long Silent Parades )
*This welcome from beyond midnight's hazy halo
*Journey into the Dark, few rarely ever go
*An imaginative rendering by a muse
*One given in a way, I could never refuse.
Each poem has over the years been edited several times,
including today, making four edits first poem and three
edits on the second poem.
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