the hunger gnaws,
this sickness,
this disease,
quickly trying
to catch the night
before it flees
back from whence
it came;
far off,
lightning flashes,
thunder rumbles,
shadows quietly slip away,
memories return like
messengers from the deep,
then it is done
as if it never
happened at all;
there are places
in this life where
no man goes,
hidden valleys,
lonesome ridges,
far beyond imagination
or dreams,
it is here refuge is found,
a haven among the lost,
a resting place
within the storm;
out here
there are no promises,
no guarantees,
only silent desperation
and stolen expectations.
.
.
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