Strighted Tendrils In The Dark Poem by Kevin Maroney

Strighted tendrils in the dark,
lighted ends in a setting so stark,
against gray, some color stems,
to crave the road, to darkness cleanse.

Dead hearts will beat again,
for nothing stays from life instead,
when rather they could see more time,
and not be extended, sworn to crime.

For it's a villainy to stay your hand
when chance comes your way, across your land,
an arm put against it, to steel
against that around which life does wheel.

How could one see in life so dark
a terrible writhing red heart,
though, when one is seen upon the rack,
it's possible to see through this crack.

The wall is fragmented, distorted in shape,
better grab ahold and destroy it by the nape.