The Shadows of Light
I awoke one night to a haunted vision
Of many a glowing apparition.
They shone like beacons of ghastly light, –
Polka-dots against the canvas night, –
In numbers I could never count,
In hundreds I dared not surmount,
And merely ambled; hovered, so,
With dark expressions I dreamed not know.
Above, beyond the shadow storms
From whence the rain and thunder forms,
These haunted visions poured as legion
Down upon this wooded region
And wailed their countless, sorry woes
And flailed amidst their deathly throes,
Until I stopped and watched no more
The pangs of suffering they wore
Within their cold and sad demise, –
Within those glowing, brimstone eyes, –
And wept with horror beneath their gaze,
Knowing then what sorrow weighs.
O’ angel, o’ grief-tormented soul,
You who are lost where’re you stroll:
This surf, this land to where you chase
Is nothing more than a woeful place,
And I, the dreamer unlucky to dream you,
Who hath your countenance in view,
Know little as to why you haunt this wood
And cannot help, though wish I could.