Singing in the Dark
In darkness, shadows hide
Unseen by misting eyes.
But who might seek the softer side
Of phantoms and their cries?
Those that drift to indigo
And fall into the Raven’s wing,
They write sad songs of days gone by
That only angels dare to sing.
To be blind among the seeing
Can be bleak——and sad——and stark.
Yes, they bleed so well from unseen wounds
As they write their songs in the dark.
Yes, they bleed so well from unseen wounds,
Well enough to leave a mark.
JE Falcon
05-27-2017
OK 2022
