DARK

 

 I never get bored; my mind's too active.  But once when I came close, and my mind was less active, I wrote this:

 

DARK 

 

From countless bats and rattling chains
I ventured out among the plains
And wandered off with ghostly skin
To lose the memories lost within.

But as it stood the night came on,
I lay in wait for coming dawn
But darkness seemed to last for ages,
I saw my book but not its pages.

Something hopped across my trail,
Its shadow cast in moonlight pale,
I began to doubt my purpose here,
For where I left was far from near.

So insecure I sat and waited,
What hopes I had I fear I hated,
My journey from the cave was done
To dread the rising of the sun.

 

 

 

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