Last night I learned what I should have known

The things I feared in dreams were all shown

A man, now a stranger, had lost his control

Gypsies call this, Dark Night Of The Soul

 

Pride is a bastard-hard, tough, and mean

Who cries in the night unheard and unseen

When the head rules the heart the soul is lost

Spirits are free but regret has a cost

 

Passion is a prison, Remorse is a jail

Good intentions pave the cold road to hell

A woman lost in shadows once craved the light

But the man in the sun now fears the night

 

Sadness is cold like the moon or a ghost

What we don't cherish haunts us the most

CANT YOU SEE-cheap pleasures are hollow?!

The journey continues. Karma does follow

 

What you send out is always returned

Gypsies know what he has not learned

Dont take for granted what comes back to you

Or Dark Night of the Soul will never be through

 

                     MidnightWitch

                     February, 2000

 

(February is the shortest but cruelest month...nothing but tambourines of frost in the air, frozen beets and Pan's giggle.)

midnight witch, loves ya and hugs ya,poet