Jakey

I met a woman under fading lights.

"Virtue falls upon the vicious nature of time's enemies," she cried out

To the moving masses who ignored her in their narrowed lanes.

"A green light at the edge of the dock," she screamed at cliched criminals,

Who snatched hopes and dreams from the zombies outside Caribou.

"Actions don't exist in the mind of a word," she told the quiet lovers

Hiding in the dim lights under the rustling trees.

"The fine line is crossed in a modicum of minutes," she howled at parishioners,

Who allowed the seed of doubt to germinate in their hearts and souls.

"We all have our place in the ether and dance on the fulcrum of daily do's," she whispers alone

While looking over her scarred flesh.

You don't see her moving among you.

You don't hear her making her plight.

Do you notice the smell as you pass by?

Will you notice her now before the light fades out completely?

The Dark

The easiest part

Of living in the dark

Is being able to design the world.

The darkness abhors the designs

Of heroes and hope.

Preferably patient pessimism

Is your entrance.

In the light everything is

Placed... is...

Locked, like a broken heart

Covered in the tattoos of history's

Weak moments.

Yet the dark savors dreams

and asks for impermanence.

Thus is survival.

Learning to guide in darkness

Avoiding the harsh light

And finding a balance between

The blind

And

The burdened.

Such is the ephemeral existence of

The dark.