Lost Light, Twill And Pen Poem by Christoph Praus

I can feel the stiff pain set,
My fingers twitch and fret,
As the ink flows, so too the pen,
As mortality bleeds out in rivers,
So too the light dims and eyes close,
Sending dark scutters down my back;

The twill too is bound tight,
And I am locked into the night,
Onto a singular, sin-felled path,
Across the barrows and hollows damp,
It dims yet more and now is black,
Revealing all the strengths I lack;

My hands floe out for purchase,
There is no safety in the darkness,
I am truly lost and fearful,
Stricken by vine, hurt by stone,
Far afield is pin pointed light,
My saviour in clear sight.