Dark Arts
A shadow pressing on my mind
The weight of this world; the death inside
A darkness willing to let go
I’m holding it close so it doesn’t grow
What of the soul that can not rise?
I know that it could, if I only tried
All truth is swimming out to sea
Its monstrous depths representing me
Such silence questioning my dreams
Her face is now gone, but not the pain I weaved
A tangled mess of things to come
My shadow in love with defeating the sun
The darkest passions undeterred
A gift of the night that can’t compare
Such mastery of broken hearts
A treasure to end, and a joy to start
A shadow breaking through my soul
A whirlpool of pleasure, before the huge black hole
These tricks the darkness plays so well
Awareness the key, to avoid being compelled
Copyright © Ian Petch | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment