When the Light Leaves Me

Many times I’ve been around the world resided in wondrous melic lands, seen the beauty of diverse faces muse at issues penned from poetic hands. Yet! It was if written ironically payment indeed for the good time, a sentence one of sensitivity an impediment in its prime. A foreboding an inner fear one immersed in utter confusion, as the greyness festers within drives one into self seclusion. As I reminisce here behind this screen that I once was a mighty mighty man, although a shadow afraid of the dark from here the poets that I love I scan. So the creeping darkness draws forth like clouds that mischievously roll in, one is shackled to the proverbial Oh God! Reliant upon one’s kin. Alas as life becomes a faded love affair and silhouettes haunt a torture soul, I wince here with in my shyness now a human being no longer whole! © Harry J Horsman 2012