Still The Darkness Calls
not black or white, but many shades of gray
light of day and darkest hour of night
each, part of us, in different vein, illumes
saintly souls sing hymns of wrong and right
yet powers that be seek, slinking furtively
eyes red as embers glowing from their gloom
would that life be clearly divided so
blessed for our triumphs...whaled upon for woes
pray, know…we’ll all be judged eventually
pay ferryman our fare, with naught in tow
yes, light is right; still, darkness calls to me
born and raised where loving God was praised
a wicked world was shrouded from our sight
like Angel’s Trumpet, seen sin’s darkest bloom
dare stain our souls with concupiscent blight
no matter how ignoble life may be
or, rather, how bewitching life’s perfume
no darkness there can ever fear bestow
or dreaded tares with furtive mischief sow
in heart this battle waged voraciously
‘tween what I need and what I dare to know
yes, light is right; still, darkness calls to me
our body is a battleground each day
where cloying flesh and spirit test their might
both vie to be the crypt our will entomb
“a little taste won’t hurt…a tiny bite…”
sin plied my flesh its wares alluringly
like dark treacle dripped from silver spoon
knowing I should stay…ne’er dare to go
defying all within my soul I know
one tiny taste I took expectantly
sweet rapture filled my heart deliciously
yes, light is right; still, darkness calls to me
with all I tried this hunger to allay
I feasted on all wickedness in sight
long interred desires dared I exhume
enticed my flesh with wonder and delight
pursued my lusts with verve…carnal esprit
intent to sate, yet empty was my room
the less I had the deeper I would go
each strumpet lain, with every ill I know
soul stained black with dire depravity
no ending of my plummet seen below
yes, light is right; still, darkness calls to me
tis then I knew I was not loved, but prey
anteceding rapture, filled with fright
regrets accosting me in steady flume
I prayed...God condescended his pure light
He lifted me up where I truth could see
He washed me clean, as new born from the womb
enwrapped my soul in linen, white as snow
forgave me of this weighty debt I owe
my blood-bought sin He cast into the sea
yet…soaring high above, the carrion crow
yes, light is right; still, darkness calls to me
the Predator's still hunting to and fro
in darkest shadow lurks, his eyes aglow
for innocents awaiting furtively
though loved am I, this nature ne’er outgrow
yes, light is right; still, darkness calls to me
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Comments: 14
I think if I read this several times, I might be more able to write my own Chant Royal in accentual verse, too.
One concern--and I'm feel you'll welcome this comment--you've not finished according to the guidelines. An envoi is needed that consists of five lines and a rhyme-scheme of d-d-e-d-e (I think, I'm relying on memory at the moment).
Further, let me fawn over the language you've used and sentence structure. I admire how you arrange your words to fit your needs without compromising meaning.
Mindful Poetry has covered fifty-three forms. Almost all of them involve some degree of repetition. The Chant form takes repeating to a higher level as you’ve shown here. Thank you for submitting to our group. This poem is featured.
Thank you for the feature, Susan.
Thank you for sharing and submitting to
The Surreal Circus.
Thanks for sharing with Gather's Luminous Writers and Artists. Featured and tweeted.
like this; "pay ferryman our fare, with naught in tow
yes, light is right; still, darkness calls to me" Dante' reference.... the cadence, rhyme and choice of words shows an exellence in your craft