Thursday, March 16, 2017

"The hounds of life"

Upon a dismal day
I trudge along
The hounds begin to bay
A haunting song
The pad of life's clawed feet
Race at my back
With fangs that snap for meat
That they do lack
I turn and face the face
Of life's false hope
With passion and a trace
Of life's true scope
A heartbeat's heard alone
Within my ear
That heart of purest tone
Removes all fear
It wills away the mist
So I can see
The hounds are but the gist
Of what would be
If love were but a whist
In mind, for me


© 2014 whickwithy

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