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Dark Lords

I walk and my eyes uplift
I cannot see ground;
my footsteps seem
gravity-defying.

Concourse with my
Inner Soul
has transmogrified;
a corner catchment
of random bliss
side-swiping me suddenly.

Frightened I was sure
I was ill.
How came it to be
that my unhappiness
took leave
stranding me
on some Less Sorrowful Shore;
what then can be my stance
in this silly putty happy world?

I've been formed by Years of Ire
Verbal Sword Play
Severed Hearts
Love Lost
Deads and Dying.

I had comfort in all these-
they became my identity

black was my celebratory color
dank dark my mead
black eye-shadowed
comforted me.

I dragged behind me
Sorrowful Souls
the Iron Faced
and Solace Deprived.

So new the threat
so swift to me
in a twit
I had turned happy go lucky;
astoundingly.

How can it be
that dark
friends abandoned me too;
so completely;
and I turned all pink
and fluffy?
Four words:

My First Real Date.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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