An Attempt At Poetry, Part 2

Why hello there, lovely people!

I have taken the time to put this post up in advance, so, if all goes well, you won’t be reading this in June, as I write this, but sometime in July.

If you know anything about me, I am not much of a poet (I put up a post a while back with two brief poems I wrote). However, I have done a little dabbling in the area. Below is a poem I wrote a few years ago. I have little idea why I wrote it or what inspired me to. Enjoy!

Final rays of sun are setting.
Then comes the dark, its chill is haunting.
And anything can happen; anything.

They never found out why he entered the place
That was guarded by a dead man’s face.
Yet he passed through it as if in a daze.

The floorboards groaned; some more they creaked.
The darkness reigned and stale water leaked.
His strength began to waver; yet he said he was not weak.

Down he went into a musty corridor.
With a determined look set on his face, for
Yet it was dark, he would still take more.

Where was he going? He did not know.
But what he’d take would be greatest foe.
Yet he thought he feared none, but lo!

The final door was in plain sight;
He’d arrived to the end without any light.
Yet behind the door lay his final fight.

There lay a box with a key—just one.
One box mattered not, for he had won!
But suddenly something struck as fast as a fawn.

It writhed and twisted and did a flip
And sucked the blood from off the man’s lip.
Shudder of passion, and Death had the man in its grip.

Day soon came. He was still there.
He had entered the vicious snake’s lair—
Yet he’d asked for it, they said it was fair.

But why did he go and enter that place?
To wander in the darkness of that evil maze.
Perhaps the answer was in the dead man’s face…

Less than three,

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. 1 Peter 4:8

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