"The Neighbor" Written By Milena Grubor

In valleys where the shadows brood,

And sunless mists define his mood,

He haunts the glass with muddy hand,

A stranger in a living land.

Twice twenty years have slipped away,

In stagnant pools of dull decay.

No wife to bless his lonely bed,

No child to mourn him when he’s dead.

He cannot brave the street alone,

To make a path or world his own.

Like some pale ghost of infant fear,

He keeps his mother ever near.

Untaught, unlettered, and unlearned,

The light of reason he has spurned.

A savage heart, a vacant brain,

He bears the mark of primal Cain.

The brother whispers to the dark,

To hide the lack of spirit-spark.

While goats upon the hollow hill,

Are kin to him, and ever still.

He twists a tongue of crooked shape,

A mockery of man and ape.

A waste of flesh, a gift of God,

Now sinking to the silent sod.

Reviews

[Michael Sun Bear]

Milena, for me this is one of your best. The rhythm just seizes and carries one along. While dark, it’s not the pitch black of some of your writing. Well done.