The Hold

By Mark Miller 03/26/2018 We hold our personal abyss Of nothingness sent caress Tying the formless substance Dancing naked existence Where meetings forwell Struggle the forest void reach Skeletons scratch from blood Fighting wayward darkness Hiding behind forests breeze Waiting for clearing screams Of hopes pretense scene Children displace loss cause Never reaching home’s soul Of worlds locked doors Behold ghost spy keyholes Echos howl man’s maiden wolf Grooming feelings for bedomma Paving cornfields lonely paths Of practice poison malevolence To deny the strain passion purpose