Beyond The Pale Poem by John Newlin

Beyond the Pale

I hear the sound of laughter,
distant music upon my ear,
far away I can see their fires
dancing in the dark sky's mirror.

The desert is cold in the dry night,
yon ocean is briny and gray,
the forest is thick and lonely,
the mountains so very far away.

In the village there is dancing,
glad music and warmth and jest,
rich voices echo from the dark
as the warm conspire with the blessed.

I feel their distant melodies
and sway slowly in the gloom;
dancing a dance long forgotten
with ghostly partner late exhumed.

There is a gate in the distance,
at the end of a dwindling trail.
I cannot go there this raw night;
I must abide beyond the pale.