Tales of a Poor Poge by Richard Palmer - HTML preview

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RIVER OF DARKNESS

 

When love is five years out and dying

Or ten years out and dead
And you are traveling the river of darkness
Reflect on the games you played
When you were offered style and wealth.

“With these I will love you,” was the promise.

What day did the pain begin?
Was it when you were again done
With each other,
That day when love was no longer
Beautiful and you felt only empty and used.

Now can it be that you see the truth
Hidden in the flowers and lace of that day long ago?
On that day a cruel belief pledged
A stranger to a stranger and left them to rot.

Where is that belief now when you
Are alone in your pain,
Trapped on the river of darkness,
And better off dead?