Night,
What a sweet and supple word....
Standing dark and looming tall.
Flying like a sable shrouded bird
Through a permeable wall.
Strange,
I never saw it as a friend
When I was young and scared....
Hiding from the end,
A fool who better, never, could have fared.
Fitting,
That I should die alone
In a room where I could find naught but a friend,
With whom I had failed to atone.
And so, to my back, they, their daggers lend.
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Assorted Poetic Musings and Ramblings
PoetryA compendium of my poems. I just needed to put it out here at this point. It's less for you, the reader, as it is for me to know its out here. These poems are not for the faint of heart, mostly because they're bad enough to kill, but also because...
