A night when moonlit shadows
crawled along back alley walls
where ghosts practice their calling
from sordid dark entrance halls
Found one before the gallows
Within the gibbet's call.
What brought him to this quandary
Where men's souls have no regard
Where hope is no man's boundary
And faith is easily scarred.
Was it an old temptation
for which he had no control?
and faced the condemnation
and the bargain of his soul?
Or could it be transgressions
though believed sinfully made
bare not of his confessions
for God's word he had obeyed?
A night when moonlit shadows
hide treason under its wing
and doles sententious virtue
as the truth that one must cling
finds one before the gallows
for whom no justice sings.
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This is deep, Rufus. Your rhyme is some
of the best here - my favorite stanza is:
"What brought him to this quandary
Where men's souls have no regard
Where hope is no man's boundary
And faith is easily scarred."you are quite the...philosopher
Lane
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I write all kinds of crap, the key word there being "crap." I don't really remember that poem every well, and Pix commented on it recently...that tells you all you need to know about my memory.
Thanks
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This is a great poem Yem not only because of the perfect flow but how you've expressed what I'm interpreting your words to say.
When we try to do what we know as "right" in all areas of life we somehow still end up facing the same challenges over and over though in different scenes and with different players. I know sometimes I think "what did I do to deserve this?" in the rationalization process of the whys...why things happen the way they do and not in my favor.
It seems as though sometimes we just can't win.
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Thank you grasshopper...oh wait, you are only the grasshopper when you write really lame stuff.
Wonderful comment Pix, and you are right. Like always.
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"Grasshopper" would apply here too at least in my mind.
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