Journey of Black
Riding darkness like a fevered horse
arriving nowhere
desire drained into
dust devils
an endeavor
escaping light
and the darkness behind my eyes
thrumming with loathsome pains of the soul
so deep
crypt-like
Silent screams claw sanguine rivulets
across
placid ponds of thought
emptying, devoid.
Wanting solitude; needing loneliness
killing to feed.
Jet steed foamy and dying
dusty caws peal from the throat
of a waiting vulture
who devours black carrion like I do.
Copyright © Cynthia Moyer | Year Posted 2006
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