Freeform (my comfort Zone)

I am what damns your soul,
the negation of your hopes,
the madness making skeletons
of children
while watchers suck
cooked meat from bones;

I am despairing mother
crying for her babies
in the cold,
their father jailed
for stealing what would
fill his children's
empty bellies,

She steps onto the balcony, gazing
Far unto the edges of her reign.
Moonlight radiates strands of auburn hair
Eschewing from beneath her night bonnet.

The night is young, as she
What wanting and needing
Stirs within her about him
Knowing not whence he came.

Gently a cool breeze brushes her cheek
She closes her eyes, and cocks her head
Leaning on a palm which is not there
Eyes slit open and she sees her lover
She inhales and smells him
Opening her mouth tasting him
Like a snake would senses its prey.

.
.
Once in a while my thoughts turn
to everything
intuited
imagined
felt
manifest
and not.

And it is as if my mind
opens
widens
expands
reaches
to give a tangible glimpse
of something wonderful.

And a wave of joy
delivering a fluttering truth
excites my heart
lifts my soul
and I almost
almost
perceive it all.

But the enormity is too vast
and before I can grasp it
it is gone.

I yearn for this island,
That is so far away,
Drenched in darkness,
Where foul things play.

A haven for souls,
That have come undone,
Where those of black hearts,
Come to gather as one.

There is a great garden,
Filled with shadows and doom,
And buds of black velvet,
You can relax in the gloom.

It's right place to be,
If you shun the light,
They frolic in evil,
Embracing the night.