i'm a dark stroll
the shadows that seek refuge behind tombstones
hiding from inevitable life forms
i'm a dark walk
a black cat that perches as a bird upon a fence
awaiting food, offering the night songs
songs of sweet sorrow
as a crow calls out to trespassers
the 'witching hours' they call them
yet in these hours is my safety
my counsel are they
if amongst the graves are evil spirits that freely roam
why do i feel alone
perhaps demons feed off the living
so they leave me be
alone to worship God how i know to
how i want to
how i love to, uninhibited
no soul to criticize me
no persons to judge or chastise me
i'm almost as dead as those who surround me
yet i'm alive with my God here, He and i alone
maybe the others who live are dead
and the dead are those who live
on the dark walk
the dark stroll
© 2002 S. S. Hudson, STRTJCKT Publishing
