Visions of Madmen

While the moon peaked out of her hiding place in her sky
And a great weariness began to weigh me down
I caught a glimpse of a dark figure quickly illuminated
By the streetlight standing guard
Just then a face pressed against my pane—
Gnarled and untamed surrounded by a mat of frayed hair,
Then jerked back and sounded a mad Howl
So piercing I nearly lost my mind and soul—
And somewhere in those wild, staring eyes
Far behind the clay-mask worked and forced against his round cheeks and form—naked, free
Was a gleam far too familiar





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback