|
| |
denied inside
oh hark, rejoice - it’s back again
a mem’ry of my who knows when
to take my joy and twist it ‘round
alluding all that might have been
a small, dark place I can not go
as dwells a ME I dare not know
blind actions I can ne’er forgive
but keep in dungeons far below
a sad thing is, he’s always there
and lives to feast on my despair
foul scraps of all my errors, dire
that by default, dress out his lair
it’s true he wears a face my own
but his vile visage turns to stone
the demons of the worst device
to leave no flesh upon their bone
I strive each hour to quite ignore
his bloodied shadow on my floor
but tho I’ll not acknowledge him
he’ll wait and seize what I abhor …
the garlands I wear … nevermore.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, February 26, 2024
Copyright ©
Gregory Richard Barden
|
|