Forsaken

Old age should burn like a flame of light
rage, rage against the dying of the night
Dark Angel take an walk down the deep woods
of the old wise men of long ago words that
once touched souls that caresses at ones heart
because their words had been long forsaken
their life had been shaken
good men had been long lost in Darkness of
their own lust of a dapper heart of swaying
of what was right in God's eye's
their frail deeds might have danced in a garden
of green but no longer
rage, rage against the dying of the light they
cry out in the night for Dark Angel they cry
holding heart's by a knife
wild men they become  caught and slugged  
they grieved in winter cold why Dark Angel had
taken over their darken souls
made them in to slaves
that hide in caves near death but death never came
Prayer had now been long forgotten
rage, rage against the dying of the light Dark Angel
takes on a new Rage squeezing out faith
weeping is all you will hear in the lost woods of the
winter cries of the lost and found
the slaves of Dark Angel.

Poetic Judy Emery © 1982
The Queen of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery