Between Hopeless Groans And Epic Sorrows
Living mad, sad, broken and overwrought
dragging rusty chains, in misery caught.
Praying anew, through, true heart wrenching woes
fighting this wicked world where anything goes.
No time to feel, chill, heal slow bleeding
on blinded feasts so many are feeding.
One cut birthing more, sunrise to sunset
despair thinking, never better it gets.
Can not, rush, hush, brush, these sorrows away
best any light gives is faint feeble grey.
In between fallen down, doing without
pray for you, if you know what its about.
Living mad, no time to feel, can not hold
hope for relief before I am too old.
Robert J. Lindley, (original composition, 2- 23-1978)
Sonnet, ( When Destiny, Sends Its Darkest Dark-Storms)
Note-- Major rewrite of an old poem, today- 9-01-2018
18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.
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