And I Still Ask Poem by Oliver Clarke

In a place of sleep,
Mind gets no rest,
Stolen by Satan,
But not yet possessed.

Did I desert me?
So you could flee,
Drop heavier than a leaf,
Yet too far from the tree.


Look down this winding road,
In a black and white shaded dress,
That your mother no doubt sewed,
Are you sure you have nothing to confess?

Go knock on the door,
Cut off from the path,
Show the keeper your heart,
But death won’t make him laugh.


“New life for the desperate? ”
“Sorry, no false hope here.”
“I ask not for promises you won’t give,
Just a new life to commandeer”.

10 foot death bed betrayed me,
Yet near death is what has made me,
Is dying what will save me,
Bring forth a new born baby.

So yet I have no beginning,
But my end is not yet over,
So throw at me what you will,
I will survive with a one leaf clover.

And I am assured but yet I ask.

Chill bites from the frame of view,
Darkness leaves a false not new,
To a dead formed mind, caring but not kind,
When did death leave life behind?