The Ghastly Night Poem by Geoff Lathy

I step carelessly into the ghastly night,
Where trembling shadows dance in fright,
Where ranks of gravestones humble sight
And no sweet voices recall our plight,
Where men and gods in desperation create
Wooded places, their conscience to sate,
Where starlit trees succumb to the weight
Of passing centuries and patient fate.
And I walk along a dismal, crumbling street,
Past worn-out houses, where tired lovers meet,
Over coffee cups and crumbs on the sheet,
Having all, lacking that which makes them complete,
And I seem to see through staring, open doors,
Countless people trampling stained carpets on the floors,
Like butterflies dancing in wild waves on the shores
Of some far off paradise that knows no flaws.
I stumble through the empty timeless darkness,
Past howling shadows of domestic fastness,
My eyes grow weak through gazing at the hardness
That inhabits these houses of intellectual tardiness;
Whilst high above, the starr’d heavens blaze
With a brilliance that illuminates my days,
With a glory of light, that mocks my gaze,
And a thought that I’m carried through the maze
By my weary feet, endlessly trudging,
Through this weary world, endlessly judging;
And how could I presume; I mean…
Is it right to assume; I have been…