I am, alone
afraid, Full of anger;
hate - at everyone.
_______ and no one.

there is always fear present
that I will naught wake
from this desolate isolation
of knowledge and truth.

this island, my island
of hope travails me
to the deep, dark night
in which I live.

No one can see it,
everyone causes it.
only I feel it;
the pain.

please ask me why
I invert the pyramid,
and then I shall answer,
"tomorrow is dead."

when at last the sun rises,
and a new day begins,
I'll call from my shadows,
it's only the moon.

10/11/2001

Posted on 10/11/2001
Copyright © 2024 William P Strucke