Wrapped In Pain
Wrapped in Pain
Oh, night when naught but life contained death’s toy.
As heated new obscenities were strewn,
And empty bottles like forgotten dreams
Withdrew the spirit from its sullen shroud.
Then, poisoned any hope with great distress.
Imprisoned empty pledges groaning, cold--
And thoughts eschewing, loosing, soon displayed:
A never-ending hurt that cried alone.
And sallow faces wreathing dirty floors.
Another ache embraces hearts that bear
The royal pain that emptiness has crowned
Enthroned by spirits drowning life again.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
February 15, 2010
Poetic form: Blank verse
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