Leaving The Den Soon... (Hells Fury) (poem) by J. Allen Wilson on AuthorsDen

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Leaving The Den Soon... (Hells Fury)

by J. Allen Wilson — Read all 1,629 poems by J. Allen Wilson

I will most likely be leaving the den soon after six wonderful years. I have already cancelled all of my other online accounts…Facebook…myspace, and others. I will soon (when the dust settles) be a non-presence. Sales of my book “Glimpse Of An Angel”…the one I wanted so desperately to get out for people to read in regards to last summer’s journey through faith & fear, and the hope of eternal love will be suspended other than through personal contact with me due to litigation against the estate. Though this book may not be the best book ever written…it is my heart and soul, and now the barons of industry have come to rob and steal the last vestige of my heart.

Personal attacks against me by persons unknown has prompted, and thus motivated me in the decisions I must make. I do not want to leave, but I may have no choice…I will hang on as long as I can to stay, but when enough is enough…that is it. I just do not understand why people hate when life is so short…I am tired of trying to figure that out.

“Glimpse Of And Angel” went into print 9/7/2009, the day that Leah passed one year ago…(fitting I thought). It should be in my hand by the end of this month…

If you would like a copy, then please notify me by mail at Jallenwilson.bellsouth.net...or by phone at 864-934-4311…this will be the only way until my lawyer resolves the issue that I can get it out. My hope is that you should desire this…for I only wanted to share my love with the world… If I do have to leave…know, and truly know this…I think you guys are some of the best people I have ever known.

Some once said that “when you are at the end of your rope to tie a knot”…they just did not say which type to tie.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Hell’s Fury

Days, lost nights blend together and mesh like unto a bad dream.

Sleep is a stranger that cries in the soft whispers of dying streams.

An unseen woman moans softly; her voice carried by a knowing wind.

The darkness creeps…creeps and then the sun gives up the ghost…

Funeral pyres burn, they rob, and they steal without end.

Joy once searching is swallowed whole by the deserts insatiable thirst.

Money barons connive…digging…digging, looking for the very worst.

Black, DARK clouds gather in force…they plan, they plot, and they seek destruction.

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH…I only seek peace…only desire absolution.

J. Allen Wilson © 9/11/2009

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Reviewed by m j hollingshead

Reviewed on September 21, 2009

prayers for you, hopefully you will not need to leave, what a heart rending situation for you

Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan

Reviewed on September 13, 2009

i have no idea what is going on to hurt ypu so, but i wish you only the best and a quick resolution

Reviewed by Cindy Tuttle

Reviewed on September 12, 2009

Allen, I am so sorry that a person or persons are being so hateful.I can sense your hurt and frustration. You have such a gift to offer. Your words are filled with love. I hope that when the dust settles you might come back to the den.As you can see by these reviews, you are respected and thought highly of. I wish you peace and I hope you find support and comfort.

With Love,
Cindy

Reviewed by Mr. Ed

Reviewed on September 12, 2009

So very sorry to hear of your new troubles, my friend. And I truly hope better days are ahead for you.

Reviewed by Jms Bell