this mind allows no clarity
troubles hide beyond the light
I see the world in abstract hues
a harvest moon obscured by night
uncertainty moves as a cloud
across skies that were once clear
and truths that shone once like the stars
burn away as do the years,
thus unsophisticated rhymes
become as journal to the lost,
the memories and once beliefs
these years of waning moons have cost.

Dark Friar

a dark friar wakes, clad in night’s chattels
walks ruined halls of my reveries
bloodied and beaten from some unknown battle
hands mangled and crook within rosaries
a phantom is he, though not of the earth
for inside me fires his conflict with grief
as mine own design had given him birth
manifest of my struggled belief.