Sorrow’s Slaves

In a dream-like state, shadows come alive.
Today, the force of sadness rules.

Both are clasped in the grip of fear.
Both use familiar and tested talons.
Sadness keeps both risks and joy away.
It is a perverse bounty.

The man and woman are angry yet docile.
Each uses an image of guilt to rule the other.
Each has grown strong in their own weakness.
The losses persist.

Dreams come and go each day.
Sadness is more reliable than the fickle sun.
Feelings that lead to woe enslave them.
Sorrow’s slave is still a dreamer when awake.

W. Wayne B.

About W. Wayne B.

I'm a software engineer, a poet and a librarian.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s