The Dark Side
Listen to poem:
Sorry, but there ain't no
John William's sound tract
light sabres flashin
kick ass Storm Troopers
or Death Star loomin.
Not like that at all
just a feeling
nothing matters
and if it did
I don't have
the energy
anyhow.
Dark cloud descending,
sucking up my light,
leaving a vacuum
to steal my oxygen.
Resistance futile
and I don't resist.
But with
the sound of,
the touch of
my loved ones
a glint escapes
the event horizon
of the black hole
of my mind.
Black turns to grey
and that's enough
for today.
December III, MMXIV
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