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Broken Souls
Chaotic spirits
float in the clouds
Clouds of tortured
thoughts haunt the mind
Broken Souls wander the sky
seeking retribution
Ancient dooms await mankind
in the hands of the insane
Blades of despair stab the
the eyes
Unleashed hatred of past lives
consumes the callous
And burns them in the forests
in piles
Smoke blinds the seer
wolves harvest the blind
No one can doubt the power of
No one can doubt the power of your imagery. I have, in decades past, read many horror tales in prose---many of them far too verbose---that do not handle this same theme near as successfully as you have in those poems of yours that I have read tonight,
J-Called