J A Crowder
Sorrow exists in his timely manner, his fashioned grip, his foreboding entanglements
Realms of sorrow snatch this heart of joy, wilst in my servitude to emotions he thrust me into an abyss
I, with arms searching, found heart’s ropes of fibers bounded & unbreakable, with a silent hope’s mystery feeding a majestic, boding desire to climb life’s gems of exceeding joys lighting the black dismal caverns of my mind
Despair may be the plight within my jungle’s delightful horror, yet beauty remains undaughted & undestroyed, ready to embrace me within a field of thorn & briar, leading me to a cascading oasis & abudances of earth & beauty
October 25th, 2021