A Dark poem for the Dark season from my favorite poet. As usual, all is not what it seems.
by Lyn Crain
I wandered lonely as a cloud,
pardon my writhing messages
that burst from the shadows
consumed in this fiery furnace
of my coffee stained soul.
Remorse and sin are at the root
of my rabid dog hatred infesting
the blurred lines of my agonized memories.
Driven by my hunger for love
I sought asylum on a mortuary slab.