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Haunted
The past howls at the windows of my heart
and each time the howl rises on the winds
I feel like I'm being ripped apart
as I listen to the howls as they find
their falling flailing end.
I think about the sins of my past
those not of my fathers make me lash
out on others whom friendships would have last
and their end remarks sustain and give a gash
across my heart and I flail
and watch as all my hope sets sail
upon the waves of death.
I think of small sins with jilted sigh
such innocence I had then
I can never match but still I try.
The swirling wolves howl when
I leave them to their fate
and as their darkness exceeds my own
I laugh as they try to escape too late
as if I'm not one who is black to the bone.
