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Negative Ecstasy*

 

It wakes us cold at midnight
jolted from a fitful sleep
 
Perchance , again, late in day
whilst the woodpeckers weep
 
And oft, at times, at twilight
when the grim reapers reap
 
It’s a tete a tete with who you are
moving waters , too, run deep
 
Lush promises bestrew the path,
but how many do we keep?
 
Under a blessed sanguine sky
dark dolor starts to seep
 
Misgivings quake,as you lie awake
fretful, counting sheep
 
Remorse burns, doubt returns
the climb is much too steep
 
It’s all a Futile Game of Chance
O look before you leap
 
Face your fears, endure the jeers
contrition cleanses , in its sweep
 
* a concept of JP Sartre
 
© R.Kanth 2022
 

Professor Rajani Kanth, is Author of Coda, A Day in the Life, and Expiations
 

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