Iron Curtains Poem by Christopher McNabb

Not now, not morrow
Trample solemn sorrow
Just a moment I would borrow
Finding petals in my harrow

Stars begin their flight
Dancing blissfully through the night
I will not find delight
With no words to feel contrite

Find no silence in a slumber
Iron curtains to encumber
Sought a word not a number
In a thought, I am asunder

Search for answers in a book
Breath every word as you look
Piercing steel of a devils hook
A mental quake your soul has shook

What of you should conspire
Malice! Malice! ! not desire
Heed the word of a liar
Dip your toes into it's fire