The Dark

Church bell remedies
ring in lonely corners
of imagination and reality,
doves flutter away
by raven's aura,
holy smiles turn
to dead rose red tears.

Grasping for relief,
nothingness flows through hands
like violet petals at funerals.

Eyes know no limits
nor no extends,
body quakes by
the jabbing pain of fear,
mouth speaks silence.

Figures in night black
play jokes and dance,
dance as if life
still flowed through them,
others pray for sorrows to end
happiness to return.

I keep wondering
while the evil
of my weary shadow,
to where does the darkness
cease in one's soul.

But for those
in seeking of eternal peace and bliss
only find oblivion
for darkness that blinds us
never does cease.