This is a wordy piece of prose
Jumping in and out of rhythms.
I hate to be negative of any expression
But this is of no use to anyone.

I am not advocating return to form
But it might help
If you know how it works.
The simple vocabulary

Does not stretch the reader
And the Mystery of Darkness,
Is philosophical rambling
Defunct of elegance.

A consciousness exists
Beyond our understanding,
Seek this, close your eyes
And enter the darkness…

Poetry is more than just
Writing down your thoughts.
Some material needs formality
Of poetic armoury.

And your images? Where are they?
There are all the trappings
Of abstract thought –
But I can’t see no ****** horse.