Ages have passed
Since I faced this monster last.
Enshrouded by his shadow,
Dark thoughts filled my chateau;
Imagery of death or cage
Filled the breadth of each page.
Monster driven away, gone at last,
My wounds I left in the past.
Free for three-quarters of a score,
Now I hear his distant roar:
My scent has reached his page.
Enraged, he rattles his cage.
His shadow engulfs the meadow,
Darkens my porch, touches my door.
I tremble as my struggle I recall;
Knowing he seeks to even the score.
So I cling each day to the bright souls
Who know only happy care-free me.
© 2016 H.K. Longmore
Musings of a Kunderian Monster 