Dark and deed it lays

It plays in my sleep.

No kindness does it display. 

I try to keep it at bay. 

I cry while I lay.

I am stout. 

But, their shout lays me out. 

I begin to decay. 

Far I run, try remember not.

Sullied is my mind 

It’s chill through out my soul. 

I am bullied by its time. 

No place to hide I find.

It is disguised in lies.

My pace slows unkind.

Now it touts my sighs. 

Into the mind I belie. 


Author: mytheodrama

The freedom of self forgetfulness, is found through fly fishing on remote streams in the high country of the west slope of the central Sierra. Being alone with God and the Gospel, in the high country, mends the mind and soul. Then, I am better prepared to meet the trials of this temporal world.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s