Drawn the curtains of my fears,
what lurks in ominous potential,
fills my mind with possibilities,
and light cannot penetrate my room,
just in case those fears assume control
and darkness prevails.
Having seen the darkness low in clouds,
burgeoning in its ferocity,
I fear the lightning crash, the thunderous
rumble of my tenacity waning,
my strength in question, overwhelmed
and craning to see through a slit in my blind,
neck outstretched like a turkey,
one step from the chopping block.
Fear consumes like a weighted plume,
a dark and bitter taste resumes my thoughts,
loose amid a frantic leap of faith,
failed to keep my heart from pounding,
and no matter my distractions,
fear like a balloon a tied my neck abounds,
reminder of the vulnerable grounds of my malaise.
Brave I am in a world of hurt,
yet it is the uncertainty that disarms,
the rapturous expectations foiled,
my dreams now buried under ground,
and faith I have that I survive,
but in what state of mind is this decay allowed,
a shroud of certainty awaiting time’s employ.
Paranoid to some degree,
cynical from past catastrophe I did flee,
and who deceives has become mostly,
when before I counted exemptions,
it’s beyond my comprehension,
trust a lure I’ve long discarded,
as people seem to isolate,
and cower from the world.
No wonder I’m stuck inside,
the thunder always clapping at my pose,
and I amid a mid-life crisis, from many years ago,
if only I could mediate these blues,
fears of loss and to lose what little I’ve left,
seems hardly worth it
I’m so bereft of hope.
Curtains drawn, winter remains outside,
while I hide in my aloof repose,
candles be the glow of my fleeting earthy light,
while I write, imbue the night with prose
to warm these chilled entrails,
hunched up within my bones,
as lightning whips the night and I do wince,
from each and every blow.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
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