Unfulfilled dreams and nightmares of inadequacy
Taint a beam of spirituality with a rosy blush

In the intangible battle between purity and its shadow
Each footfall becomes more labored
Each blow unleashed strains against
A ghastly counterweight silhouetted in obstruction

To gaze upon its face is to validate its existence
To feel its texture is to fuel its maddening demand
To kiss its crimson smile is to submit to its ripened fruit
To ignore its infamy is to encourage its wrath upon the ignorant

A celestial quandary
That often ends as quickly as it begins
But for those of us who fear darkness,
However brief

It’s the choices made within the shade
That reflect upon the return
Of the unforgiving pale glare.



"To be a poet is a condition, not a profession."
- Robert Frost

My crappy blog: http://www.livejournal.com/users/eyes_of_mine/

Blind Eye Turning: My book
http://www.lulu.com/content/187759

My other crappy blog:
http://inevitabletruth.blogspot.com/