by Sam Thede

Created on: February 12, 2009

Sanctuary

His hiding place, he wears it well

The last refuge

Of his fragile soul

When he was young, it was the World

Now he's grown

It's just his Hidden world

A reminder of

Youthful days long gone

And crushed, compacted, collapsed

Long ago, the Blackness came

And began to plunder

The fringes of his refuge

His world has shrunk, shriveled

And may soon die

The Blackness grows, strengthens, devours

What will he do

How can he survive

Naivet, innocence, his last rampart

Will soon be lost

Learn more about this author, Sam Thede.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.