Abyss
In deepest, darkest depths of my despair
I find myself without a saving grace.
A pendulum of pain prevents my prayer
from rising upward through the dead of space.
Within these walls a war where no one wins
repeats itself just like a worn-out rhyme.
No swain should e’er succumb to swinish sins,
for he who does the crime must do the time.
And yet there was a time I loved her true,
and in those days we dreamt without restraint.
These merry memories now make me rue
a life I should have lived with more constraint.
For now, I dwell inside this cursed abyss,
a mournful soul who misses her sweet kiss.
Copyright © Tom Woody | Year Posted 2023
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