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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=547629" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>But For Being Lost</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">As black imbued black, so was rendered the pitch of darkness<br>That befogged this godforsaken yard of graves -<br>And too the dank, ‘til now forgotten chapel that<br>Did little to grace these forlorn grounds.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet here stood I, seemingly first to tread this weed-ridden soil<br>Since times of yore when life had erstwhile blessed this land.<br>But for being lost in solitude - as does a country wanderer -<br>Would I not have happened across this morbid landscape.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And though detail rendered barely visible to my naked eye – <br>For desperately had the moon tried to break through this jet fog – <br>A sense of something suffused the place.<br>Was it those tormented spirits desperate for absolution, <br>Or perhaps the gargoyles teasing me on whether they be of stone or living flesh? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was drawn to the oak door as it enticingly opened in passage for me.<br>The organ called from down the nave and through the pale orange of unsteady light <br>- that which could only be mustered from the few discoloured, moribund candles.<br>Could I also hear a distant choir of stern voices, as if in effort to scold me? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">As I approached, those tarnished pipes came into view.<br>Standing erect with gothic pride, they bore down on me with patronising air -<br>Exaggerated by the disjointed sneering of minor chords, <br>As if to state that insignificant I had henceforth no grant of solace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In answer, I steadied my rocking legs and racing mind to wonder of this scenario.<br>And in doing so, I found myself waking from a cramped dream – <br>Whence the message dawned: mine had been such a claustrophobic life.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost <br>lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost <br>lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost <br>lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost <br>lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mark+R+Slaughter">Mark R Slaughter</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=547629" data-title="But For Being Lost de Mark R Slaughter" data-description="As black imbued black, so was rendered the pitch of darkness
That befogged this godforsaken yard of graves -
And too the dank, ‘til now forgotten chapel that
Did little to grace these forlorn grounds.

Yet here stood I, seemingly first to tread ..."></div>
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