Shadows of the Soul

Beneath the brightly brimming stars, under Earth’s grassy loam,
there is a place, it’s not too far, I often like to roam.
Within an ancient graveyard gate, immersed in moonlit glow,
where lengthy shadows congregate, there is a place I go.

 
The terrors there cannot compare to those that blunder, blind.
For those can reach you anywhere, quite often, you will find.
No matter where my wand’ring mind might try to stray away
imaginations intertwined with what I feel today.
 

Angels sing but cannot bring me peace, nor sweet release.
I beg, I plead – and sometimes bleed - the voices never cease.
In deepest Hell, God cannot quell dark horrors, as defined
like those that lurk, just stare and smirk—welled-up within my mind.