Poem 9.1

The valley shakes
Rocks fall
Water ripples
And, in the end, it takes

Blindsided
The roads traversed
The hours wither
The fool, love blinded

In games of pain
Come cries of joy
Seasons drift
Madness contained

Uproarious howls
Bring cold winters
And hot summers
Blood drips from the beast’s jowl

Swallowing you whole
In you fall
Down, down, down
From the pit you call

Surrounding darkness
Always looming
You look around
For light, ever blooming

About Jason L. Troy

Film Enthusiast; Avid reader; Occasional writer; Pianist/Drummer; Runner
This entry was posted in Creative Writing, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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