Diana Hill Poet I do not know?

Victim of the Night

A Victim is what it is...
Torn apart and unwhole
Feeling helpless and all alone.
Looking over one's shoulder
Never to know...
To run to hide one knows not where.
Is he here or is he there?
This stalker of the night...
I feel his presence,
I see him not.
I know he's there lurking in the night.
Is there justice in the land?
Cries the victim of the night.
As the night fades away
And the dawn turns to light
The victim still knows
He's just waiting for the night.

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L'Nass Shango March 15, 2009 at 4:43 AM Feel it, I enter a poem with all my sensibility, and sometimes feel the poet more than poem, we carry loads and verses give us wings to fly