Life’s taken them for such a cruel drive
who walk this earth with no one at their side.
Who wait in dread the dark’ning of each night
and brood, releasing hope of dreams that lied,
exacting blood and tears as though to wage
revenge—reminding their poor souls, unsaved,
to spend each night repenting choices made,
repelling those who care, afraid to face
the truth. They wallow in the wounds they nurse.
They flee from fam’ly, friends and church.
Chill out, dear Dante, how you make it worse!
Remember that another paid the purse,
how you’ve been loved by one who calls you back.
So ditch the gloom. Rejoice, hold fast. Take that!
This is a delayed response to Tony’s Meeting the Bar prompt to write a Bout Rime. It needs a lot of work, especially the final quatrain. I wanted to lighten it up a bit but…any ideas? Linked to dVerse Open Link Night.