Woeful Cries From A Cavern Dark And Deep

Hungry winds, that lash to whip up desire
horrid- state of loss, feeling all alone
forgotten, flames of great funeral pyres
those altars carved from unwilling stone.
Youth's folly, innocence, its childlike mirth
life wandering through unforgiving sea
lust and greed, far, far greater than earth's girth
fruits thus harvested from a poison tree.

Vanity and its allies- mortal fools
world- a rock-field to be seeded with pain
humanity clawing with its dark tools
leaving behind destruction, blacken stains.

Red, constant flow of savagely spilt blood
Man in blindness wading through epic floods.

Robert J. Lindley, 4-04-2021
Sonnet, ( What becomes of the trembling kiss of day )