The Dark in the Night

It’s the song of gone-dark citiesPeopled only with bare bonesIt’s the scorch, post-detonationAnd the lingering of ghosts It’s the snow-shod, wailing sorrowsLamenting all that might have beenIt’s the exhaustion and the languorWhen one’s blood is running thin It’s the streets awash in crimsonWith its broken, lonely stonesIt’s a world, though bathed in starlightOne absent of […]

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A Case for Keeping Crimson

Our Lives are painted pictures Of this, we can be sure But such a waste of Crimson When spilt upon the floor. I can hear you’re cloaked in sadness For I have lived there too And it seems your heart is broken (As hearts are wont to do) So please consider this now , If […]

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The Reading

From Verse of Small Sanctuary. I wrote this while I lived in a small town in Pennsylvania; it boasted a small but beautiful main street with great restaurants, a theater, et cetera– also was a psychic’s shop, which (though the lights were on) were perpetually closed. In a time of deep depression and, indeed, desperation […]

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