Dark Streets Black Souls Poem by Owain Glyn

My silent feet patrol these streets
They seek no help from me.
Expectant clouds, form up like shrouds
They whisper destiny.

The stars have fled, to guide the dead
The silent moon, discreet.
The clouds, in pain, spew out their rain
The blackness, now, complete.

I stare at dark store windows
At tortured mannequins.
They point at me, accusingly
With frozen, knowing, grins.

Grimy windows, curtains drawn
Cast out thin shafts of light.
Shadows dance, as if in trance
As drunken lovers fight.

In darkened alleys, shining eyes
Of foxes on the prowl.
And just above the beat of rain
Forgotten dogs do howl.

I look down at the gutter
My shrunken soul stares back.
I kneel to beg forgiveness
As the lightening starts to crack.

I fear that my salvation
Will be washed away by rain.
It seems this is my destiny
To tread these streets again.

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Owain Glyn