The Stain of Mortal Doubt

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The Stain of Mortal Doubt

A voice in shadows
Shifts its mood—

Fear screams and clutches anger
In the melancholy night.
Dawn brings horror again;
The sliver of moon cutting
The clouds and fogging
The mirror of blank sorrow.

A heart of stone cannot breathe
And dies in darkness.
The marrow bone trembles
As the flesh craves touch.
The inflamed brain is a drain
On civility.

Dread stumbles, falls,
Cannot stand again
Among the tomes of history,
Silent lips keep dank secrets.

Mortal doubt stains the mind,
Brings shame to the heart,
Fear to the bones,
Lustful anger to the flesh.

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