The Dark Night

THE DARK NIGHT 

Evil is Rising.....

I can see it so clearly,

I can see the vividness of it's blackness,

It's tyranny......

This evil is overtly advertised through coldness,

And the bright moon.

I can hear the wolf and the dog howling.

They call out the names of idlers still in hiding,

As if to warn them about the darkness that is gliding.

It glides down the mountain,

And like a strange thing it has only one intention;

To swallow and subdue.

This Darkness captures and enslaves,

Courts and caresses the hapless idlers to their graves.

It smothers their lungs and churns their bodies,

Until there is nothing left like ashes that have been burnt.

The blood of those bodies ignite their blood like fuel.

There is nothing left, not even the forgotten stories of ash.

.....Somewhere else in the forest,

There is a crunching of flesh and bone.

You can hear it so clearly without the deafness of tone.

This sound is akin to the sound of wolf,

Tearing flesh off from bone.

Or like a bear mauling down a bony human.

When curiosity overcomes you,

And you decide to take a closer look, 

What you'll see is not the shadow of a wolf,

It's one of a creature that has for long run aloof,

That has for long made a mockery of the theory,

Of bones being teeth proof.

This creature appears after the dust has settled,

When one's eyes and consciousness are muzzled.

It ensnares its prey with a dancing worm on a stick,

Leaving the prey puzzled, then it SNAPS!!!!!

It eats human flesh in big chunks at first,

Then it nibbles the flesh in pebbles,

So as to allow the first chunk to digest.

After the feeding frenzy is over,

It then licks up the remains from its spiky short fingers.

The remains are usually pieces of intestine.

Its ferocious growl calls,

Calls for souls with which its dinner will summarize. 

I can't clearly see it's face,

It's kind of hidden in a misty daze.

But i can tell that destruction is it's prize.

As you go deeper into the forest on death top mountain,

You can smell an evil force,

A strange presence, 

For whom civilization and logic have divorced. 

It sends chills down your spine...

Because you can feel....

.....Feel an uncomfortable, unnerving, feeling reach your toes.

As you continue to walk through the forest,

Your hear a sound, and a squeak...

Something is looking at me...

Suddenly, i feel the urge to run.
I feel like my soul is being pulled out from under me.
.........It has caught up with me....................................
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!


A Poem by Bruno Edgard.

  

OBSOLETE

OBSOLETE!!!

Obsolete, Nothing.....

I feel nothing...

I look at my pen....

And then i look at all the blank pages........

They are staring at me.....

Waiting, waiting patiently.....

And all i see is NOTHING!!!

All i see is an empty space before mine eyes.

I feel the power of his glory divine.

And yet my heart beats at a

Steady rate because i feel nothing sublime.

What is causing this?

Is it because the last feelings that i had,

Ignited a response that was crazy?

Those coveted three words....

"I'm not Ready"

I want to write about substantial beauty,

About how the sun shines when your eyes

Are before me.

About how the sky turns blue

When you look up to it in Glory.

About how my ear wax disappears,

Every time i listen to your story.

Why is it that i can no longer

Behold that beauty?

Wherefore i sit on my chair,

Or on my bed and i just

Think about no one and nobody.

Why can't i write Love poems anymore?

Yes, i am filled with the Love of God.

But when it comes to writing about cupid's arrow,

I need a focal point.

Lo and behold,

Even though my feelings may be mute,

I know that one day,

Out of this nothingness

A Rose, a beauty,

I will uproot.

A Poem by Bruno Edgard.