Dark Times

crickets don't  chirp in hell 

they burn

brighter than the fire

that fuels your scorn

feeding your anger

like cicadas at dawn

takes hold

and suffocate

subjugate spirits

until  hearts are torn

love don't come easy

 to a cold heart

or a misused

trampled on

abused heart

love is war

unpredictable

from the start

like the urgings of youth

grasping at straws

gasping at yet 

another of life's

myriad illusions

lost

in a tabernacle of lies

love tossed aside 

like schmatte 

as if 

God doesn't exist 

who am I to love?

I can only die