dazmark3

SADNESS
By
Mark E. Miller
TwentyOne October, 1999

Sadness like a blanket
Covers each morsel of my soul.
So kept is my imagination,
Even mother can’t console.

Tears fear the blackness they’ll embrace,
As players to their act create,
Unseen, alone,
Unknown, untold,
Each drop forgotten
As day unfolds.

Hope now runs his race
To see if
Hands now open can embrace.
But frantic is Hopes’ only race.
No home exists for him, you see,
No flower, no fruit, no harvest for he.

Now love is felt and
Screams aloud, “I’m here, I’ll help,
I’ll conquer this shroud.”

But unseen, unfelt, unknown
to whom,
Could save my heart and
Cleanse this tomb,
Kills it’s maker without remorse
Slowly, softly for without course,
Creates what some have
Named no less.

The true,
The mighty, the king,

Sadness.