The Edge Of Darkness Poem by Jennifer Batch

As a young poet I was told
Write things of a tender heart
Write of blue skies high above
Write of bluebirds sweetly singing
Write of bluebells newly bloomed

Write of happiness and sorrow
Write of love and laughter
Write of things gained and a new tomorrow
Write of wonders in nature as seasons doth unfold

But what is to be when the heart turns dark and cold
What then shall words bludgeoned upon the page speak of
For the poet's heart hath become heavy
Stained with pain and contemptuous iniquities
Where anger and hatred doth not find recoil
And redemption be it far out of reach

For alas the poets heart hath become shackled
With ice cold laden veins from whence life doth not flow
Empty longings fill the soul pouring from it vile debris
The mind blotted and blurred with lurid visions
Visions of darkness sent from afar beyond the grave
Where lies a wilted rose of unacquainted love
For whom the poet's withered heart shall never know
And thus sweet sorrow brings the edge of darkness ever near
Ah, yes, alas sweet sorrow brings the edge of darkness ever near