The Dark Poem by Tobbie WhiteBird Crowe

The dark has scarred my soul,
While death seeks to befriend me
Yet as always stays his hand;
Following with his thin pale horse
And smiling at my pain.

The dark has scarred my soul
A wound of deep intensity.
Bloodless ever bleeding
Never healing, never ending
Emptying my spirit.

The dark has scarred my soul
Forgotten is light and laughter,
Lost wandering delays
Which bring me daily deeper down.
Weighed only by my pain.

The dark has scarred my soul
Hopelessness now my daily being.
Hollow feelings filled with phantoms
That never die, and never leave
Haunted is my spirit.

The dark has scarred my soul
Weepless tears that sting my eyes,
Blinding me to all and nothing.
Reaching out but never touching.
Feeling nothing but my pain.

The dark has scarred my soul
Silent screaming no one hears.
Drowning helpless in my tears.
No way out but that above
Touching now my spirit.

The dark has scarred my soul
But one alone does not desert me.
One alone brings hope and loving
Living water, joy and caring
Soothes the hurting, heals the pain.

(January 13,1988)