This poem could be classified Dark Poem, but it’s not only dark. There’s hope in it, and that’s not in many of my poems. Hope facing the dark side. That’s why I won’t consider it a Dark Poem.
This poem could be classified Dark Poem, but it’s not only dark. There’s hope in it, and that’s not in many of my poems. Hope facing the dark side. That’s why I won’t consider it a Dark Poem.
The world was silent when the moon was rising
slowly, yet steady
leaving the mountains behind
illuminating
making the sharp shadows mountains again
fighting back the shadows of the forest
everything’s gray, yet not dark
a star dies not ever being light again
and the wildness of nature is complete
whilst the earth cries out in blind pain
dying from war and destruction
08-14-00