No Evil Bows (Heroic Sonnet)
I am the gray, damp, muted mist which slides
Between the large, carved, marble marker stones;
Alone they sit like weighted, gargoyle brides
Above the dried-white, brittle, lambent bones,
Now dead and silenced for iniquities.
I glide inside the dance of death each night
As wasted graves belch loud obscenities
To rage against the blaze of righteous light.
I am but smoke within a wicked wind
But stand as witness to this brutal truth:
The black of death ends not the pain of sin
For evil preys on pulsing blood of youth
And once possessed these young ones will be made
A matrix of malevolence 'till death;
Though even then no evil bows to fade
Benignly, with death's rattled rales of breath.
Do not take lightly words that I now speak;
Great evil thrives when human will is weak.
Copyright © Tom Mcmurray | Year Posted 2010
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