Running Poetry XVI

My poetry from 2 years ago had so much drama and passion. A part of me laughs at the drama but I mostly envy the passion.

He held back
Felt the chill linger
Time and space governed the track
Til he became cold fire’s soft whisper

Slid on a puddle
On a lonely unlit road
Fear seemed almighty

Nowhere fast on lifeless wheels
The sky mocked with gentle rain
Only to cease and reveal
An old continual strain

Drawing faceless multitudes
The ash cross has its burden
But bear it with gratitude
To exit the black wolf’s den

Into the darkness
Conscience did not go unscathed
I must make amends

Black wolf’s mad howling
Inner inkwell overflows
Silence; inkwell dries

Sacrifice balance
Maximize range of motion
Laborious falling

Forced adaptation
Willpower breaks the threshold
Found yet another

Her laughter is gold
Every note puts me at ease
I need to wake up

Myriad glowing lights
Resplendent without the veil
Spark the light within

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