The night betrays the light
in silent reproach,
for the shroud is the shadow deeds
of many, and the dreaming seeds
of other destinations,
but for me, a quiet preponderance
of my deepest thoughts, unquenchable.
For some a sweet dream journey
of angel wings and flighted freedom,
halcyon days passed, revisited,
yet my shadow capture
the heart of my woes, visions that so
twist my nerves to sleepless quandary,
in baring the weight of injustice.
Too human I’ve become,
too invested in the balance plays,
when truly those within the storm
need their turbulent lessons,
not spooned out but near drowned
to find the mark,
and I in pointless dally ask for sense prevailed.
The night does draw from the soul,
does entice the darkest thoughts
to play in shadow, to press
my confessions to the test,
and trial my rights and wrongs,
in tossing and turning sleepless throngs
of all my unresolved, to bask in moonlight.
No judge am I, no Lord of balance,
just too sensitive to let go
the inequities in lives I love,
and it pains this soul to watch with aching regret,
what some people create in their redress
of the demons they hold,
the echoes that haunt their soul.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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