Clouds Of Uncertainty

Dark billowing clouds fall upon  a secret land.

Uncertainty sleeps with the silence of disillusionment.

Specters whisper in the fog on the approaching wind.

The day of dreaded tomorrows is at last, at hand.

Songs of black enchantment scream past the dead and dying trees.

Sadness is built upon the soft knock of death which stand at the door-

Brought forth in the illusion of forgotten and yet to be realized dreams.

Still is the life with the lions which lie in secret and wait.

The solitaire Savannah’s of tomorrow providing their cover by day.

Hope is no longer held in the heart nor in the living soul.

For the glint, the small sliver of light lies upon the high plains unknown.

Peace of spirit is evasive as day one of the journey is to begin.

Thus pity not the soul as day one brings forth the clouds of uncertainty.

For day after day the journey of silent disillusionment comes again and again.

I regress now as I face the canyon’s cold dark wind.

Deserts claim their toll to which no man knows his end.

Cold is the heart which speaks, yet nevermore sleeps.

Life has become a silent pain; nothing left, nothing to gain.

Thus beneath the clouds of uncertainty I alone weep.

Damn, oh damn this darkness of which my soul should seek.

It matters not, it matters no more, for living, true living has become too much of a chore.

Therefore I acquiesce ; I surrender all this day.

Too much to bear…too much become the internal pain.

For the clouds of uncertainty for me have at last claimed the day.

J. Allen Wilson © 9/05/2011