I Will Write Words That Eat Out of My Darkened Soul

I Will Write Words That Eat Out Of My Darkened Soul I'll not write my poetry with dull sanctioned pen pay the price with my spirit like other men, tribute to uniform codes and enslaved dreams a drone in other people's evil scheming schemes. I'll not conform to the deadening dry and the dull a rotted seed wedded to a buried and dying hull, never one to eat off another man's dinner plate desiring another path and a kinder poetry mate. I will walk a road traveled by the rebellious few a shadowy trail full of spirit and wrapped in blue, where great apples eat of the tree they hang to die a jealous mystery, the heart of which refuses to cry. I will write words that eat out of my darkened soul wrapped in sweet kindness and glory from the whole, hearts's love and inspiration dredged from the deep singing lamentation from the beast that can not weep. Cut me fast, bleed me down to my aching old bones curse me out, slay me with righteous angered tones, burn my spirit with flames of jealous, maddened rage stomped me to death and enslave my muse , my old sage. I'll not write my poetry with dull sanctioned pen pay the price with my spirit like other men, tribute to uniform codes and enslaved dreams a drone in other people's evil scheming schemes. Robert J. Lindley Note: Do not blame me , my muse has hounded me to write this piece for over four months now. I yielded only to spiritual torment and enlightened demands. If I am to be forced to conform by the power of the ruling class I will wage war until the sky erodes, the mountains fall and the darkest devil dares to emerge to try to slay us all. Qui mortuus capto opus salutem tribuet . Victoria vadit ad Victor !