Poetry

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Sorrow grips, anger rips my soul to ragged shreds.
Blackness dwells, thunder swells, my enemy’s at hand.
Is there one brave? Can someone save me from this murky pit?
Will I go down, in darkness drown, oblivious to dawn’s fair light?

Dragons scream, geysers steam, evil rears its head
Demons cackle, surface crackles, and woe has made its bed
My heart its mattress, despair its fortress, walls of tears grow high
Distorting light, a prismic sight should one care to look in.

My gallant knight, His armor bright is not to be deterred
by satan's schemes or nightmare dreams. My savior mounted high
Has come for me. I cannot see through murky air of lies.
Still He pursues the heart that knew Him from the edge of time

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