You have dampened my night
with sour sound of your light
closely drawing me into fright.
I stare at you, I smell your sight
as you fashion my life from the height
of the dark.
Your words still fresh like Pubilius’ death
when once he was seeking truth in the earth.
Writings of a dying poet, Socrates when hung by pain’s birth.
I saw your soul lingering in these words and girth
of the solemn dark.
I will drink life and follow the sea side
to rest my consciousness away from the tide.
Do not find me, lest I shall hide
and let the divine comedy be my glide.
I know there’s a secret room for those who love the ride
when they sit in Limbo staring at their suicide.
I run from your darkness.