Poem 1#
Didn’t format properly sorry. The improved formatted version is below.
The Dark Night of the Soul
The mysteries of the unknown.
So we seek.
So we wander.
So we venture.
Spinning in circles.
The circles spin me around.
The circles spin within the circles,
they form reckless devoid geometric shapes.
Delusion?
Trapped in this emotional confusion.
Lines blur; intertwine.
Darkness rises.
Bare trees sway.
The winter doesn’t want to go away.
In this madness we suffocate,
struggling to breathe in our own despair.
Delightful tunes of sadness like a record player cycle in our head.
An apocalyptic dread makes us feel that we are better off dead.
Oh sweet, sweet darkness.
Why do you hum in our ears?
Faintly you speak now.
Now you speak louder until I hear
your deafening scream.
I hear my name.
Looking around now?
No one here.
Delusional.
I must be delusional.
A spectre appears before me?
Tall, stretched and frail.
Shadows echo as dusk returns.
I must be insane?
A poem dedicated to those who first found spirituality and experienced the dark night of the soul in some way.