Castle In The Shadows (poetry 2014-present)

I'm sitting on the edge of the Caul-De-Sac Looking at one of my childhood homes on a dark,  and cold, and crisp October night Back in 1995 My heart now roams ... There are hand prints in the cement on the driveway  etched in the shadows messy writing in the cement bares a name of mine now fallow but I still know who she is and I'm looking outside and from within and now  my brooding soul hovers   In a shawl, black and knit feet one inch above the ground under street lights dim and lit... The centered street light bathes me in a familiar orange dim and a crows' perched on the rim silently he stares me down as my face bleeds a dripping frown like black slate running down my cheeks this is the greatest, deepest grief  Grieving for all that was I tried so hard to make it last even though I barely grasped  my vibrance, muf...

crows in the room perching on the sill they croon squawk,  and cock their heads asking you what are waiting to do what do you have to prove nothing lady it's alright just move with the winds' tune

When masking the lack with the Last Chance Mask the physically weak the agonizing grief.. It's easier to reap Petals, with weak roots bleeding toes in combat boots when rain drenched they must be removed Revealing the truth breaking the rouse And so back to the static state of affairs lives me in a cold,  but charismatic lair Sweetly stalwart mask is removed and under, it's bruised.. with frustration and tears winding, crawling fears.. The condundrum of horrors is hard to reveal to form let alone sustain true hope within zeal And the rain to be frank, well it's a monsoon pouring and pouring I'm trying to breathe let alone hum a tune.. When you cannot achieve the ability to leave  what really is a private hell to reach reprieve from this well  and so the wounds swell With water and heat too tepid to ble...

pins and needles biting like beetles clock is ticking moon is shining over windowed steeples towering in the sky cast shadows on high cradling, with a dark hearts' lamented, fermented sour lullaby reaching for the right praying to get through each night til we reach the light

Bravery is false pride like fake it til you make it defiant on this ride through hell and now alone battling I need to win like the sword in the stone it's a battle that's so steep struggling so hard to keep functioning enough so that I can go enough to actually sow so that what's sown can be reaped so that I can then find my peace I can't let go until I have done that at least and speaking of above homonyn-ically no grim reapers will come I'll chase them away with my drum yeah, my heart is the drum yeah it has to keep beating my blood has to keep pumping and some

Black ice crystals s hine like whistles  whistling in the dark  whistling through the park  of trees and benches barren  subtly it'll wear down  the backs of every fool  who turns away  but cool  bearing backs to weather  so cruel