Poem: deviation – 29/12/21

the times are confusing my dear
I stare him down in the face
commonplace, commonplace? Perplexed, no, this world can be full of hate.
there are jerusalems and narnias and picturesque scenes and wild wild cars
the darkness darkness speaks to us
while the light within calls to her

she speaks in riddles and rhymes
envelopes the times
the signs the whines the styles keep trickling into their den
but the foxes they won’t make amends
and the wolves they call to them
they chuckle to themselves, those gods,
those cryptologists whom seek:
while we are up in arms.

we clear the courses,
delicately, and with charms.
Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.