Midnight Street

inevitable seems my descent
jaded, worn, and stumbling through
this muddled vine in discontent
I reach for Him and all things true
yet death and torment seem hell bent
to fuck my life, to kill, subdue,
drain all strength that courses through
these veins with nothing left to do
but lose my faith, retract, retreat
hide these tears that stain my sheet
in solitude and go to sleep
and dream perchance that I might reach
that moment on that midnight street

Author: Sunny Lal

Human Rights Activist Advocate of Truth Anarchist of the Earth