Death, Drought, Pestilence and Midnight Nightmares
Death, Drought, Pestilence And Midnight Nightmares
The whitewashed sand, little flowered ocean
The beaming moon splattered its shadows and light
The Gypsie's cried but still gave up their potion
And the angry wolves followed next howling at night
Rain-colored splashes hit and soaked tree tops
The deep dark was split by soft hesitant moon rays
Out in the verdant fields, the blue-fairies' dance stop
Ahead was mass of monsters hidden held at bay
Heraldic stars shown with innocence virginal
Hector had died and Achilles was laid to rest
Here in the blacken real world life was terminal
Both Mark Twain, the gambler, held their cards to their chests.
Infinite shadows wait in the dark underground.
We yet waiting for ours, dared not a single sound.
Robert J. Lindley, Dark sonnet
Sept 3rd, 1972
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