Poem of the Dark


Poem of the Dark Poet

Shimmering monitor reflections
Are painting hush hush pictures
On to the writers facial structures -
Pondering on the darkness whilst
Unwrapping starless visions
Of blackness:
Shadows of the night are
Casting horrors into the words
He is typing: on and on and on.

Will he ever stop? Not - he
Tells these shadows - till
Those are gone; have re-united
With the black walls of the cabinet
Around. Nobody listens to
His shivering breathing;
No-none is counting the clicks
On that keyboard.

His verses are meant for anybody
But him. He is waiting for
Resulotion, for some early
Morning light kissing his forhead
Covered with the deep lines of
A strained soul and a mourning
Heart. There is no window
In this cabinet. The shadows
Will last as long as his texting takes.
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