How The Light Gets In Poem by Graham Stone

(Acknowledgment of a Faceless Angst)

The sky wallows through a broken blue,
Bruised only by the silhouettes of hanging clouds,
Which sit so sad along the night’s fading breath,
In whispered rasps of rattled death,
That provides the earth a squally shroud.

How the light gets in, I do not know.

The peeking rays of a reluctant sun
Ebb along the blackened sky,
Seeping idle radiance,
Exploding across the horizon’s lie.

How the light gets in, I just don’t know.

A flaming scarlet scorches the swimming clouds
Burning lacklustre burgundy into shifting vermillion hues,
Gushing violent life through the broken blues.

How the light gets in…

And so, the inferno sky blisters on,
Bathing light into deathly shallows
Hollowing the deep yawning depths
Of night’s gaping sorrows.

How the light gets in, I am sorry I’ll never know,

For I am forever night
As I cast another
Perpetual,
Aching,
Shadow.