I think of the sunsets,
choosing the moment,
the ideal view, a perfect setting.

I insist on loneliness,
turning to me,
surrounded by the forest,
dark and mine.

But fear comes,
the fear of the night,
fringes of the cold,
intrigues and follies.

I scream and despair,
roars of the past,
darkness that intimidates me.

a landmark of mystery,
of my hidden phrases,
on the edge of all madness

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Copyright 2020 LIFEINVADER
Published on Thursday, August 20, 2020.     Filed under: "Personal" and "Poetry"
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