Once,
in those long trodden upon and nigh half forgotten times of youth
as I sat, (to gather up my weary strength from the frail footsteps
of the long traveled roads that lay behind me)
I, oddly enough found mine tired resting bones
at the very gutters bottom of that daunted and e'er looming
craggy and countenanced hilly mount
Then, as I gathered my worn senses about me,
I spied far above the washed out and now dried melt off of winter,
not Moon,nor Sun, nor Endless Starry Night
But 'stead a slowly spreading crimson rosed glowing
in slow, measured, creeping, monotony,
I beheld that and there partook
of what was truest and terrible Divinity
the shadowed fingers of a Thousand Nations
in a cataclysmic fleeting flow
Staring Down Me
And burned e'er upon my soul deep in it's darkest throes
Staring Down Me
STARING DOWN ME!
as there I Sat,
Simply Below. _-S.R.R Apr. '12