Tonight is the night we all dread and fear,
because of the tensions arisen by them.
Who will be next and who will see me in the
the mirror of the dungeon...
Who breaks it down and rebuilds
when it ends with the sound of a clatter?
We speak of the danger and peril of fate to
decide on life. Who wants to know the
meaning of sounds, the
meaning of love, the
meaning of hate.
Who can pretend to know;
when pretending ends with a clatter...
Send the village a card addressed to Bill.
He knows the feeling I speak of.
The peace in my mind,
the love in my heart
the spirituality that,
ends with a clatter...
No one can tell a person in distress;
one who feels with emotion and
confusion.
Confusion of what?
I wish and oppose to know.
I want and I fear the knowledge.
I receive and I squander the thought of love.
But as always fate shows the upper hand;
and by the fury of all mankind,
ends with a clatter....
Copyright, February 24, 1968
This was my gloom and doom period where poem after poem contained the same theme(s) of death, destruction, and finality. Also, the Bible played a big part in my poetry though I wasn't a religious person.