I wandered lonely as a cloud,

pardon my writhing messages

that burst from the shadows

consumed in this fiery furnace

 of my coffee stained soul.

Remorse and sin are at the root

of my rabid hatred infesting

my agonized memories.

Driven by my hunger for love

 I sought asylum on

…a mortuary slab.

 
I was curious to see how my poem translated into French 
so I have included both here. If you are fluent in French
 could you tell me if Google translate worked or not. Thanks!

Terrain sacré © Lyn Crain
J'ai erré comme un nuage solitaire,
excusez mon messages putride
qui éclatent de l'ombre
consommé dans cette fournaise ardente
de mon âme taché de café.
Remords et sin sont à la racine
de mon chien enragé la haine infestant
les lignes floues de mes souvenirs déchirés.
Entraîné par mon amour pour la faim
je cherché asile sur
… une dalle funéraire.


The reverse translation clearly does show the same word choices as I intended. 😦

Evil ruled this beautiful forest far too long. It’s time to unmask

She should resist entering the haunted forest, but it is too tempting

Evangeline, although quite young believes she is ready for the task

The rumors fly every Hallows Eve, but no one dares preempting

Evangeline knows in her heart that she will not be alone

Ghosts of other young victims await her, pray she is the one

A mysterious, powerful force compels her into the unknown

Hope that she is strong enough to battle evil John Donne

In the darkness beside the tree, lurk his henchmen

The fairies create a shimmer of twinkles all around her

They watch her guarded approach to the mysterious glen

Soon the prophesied battle betwixt good and evil will occur

Legends have foretold a beautiful witch would be the one

The village prays she can save their weary souls

Henchmen work fiercely for their evil master John Donne

No one saw this twist; it was not written in the scrolls

Evangeline stood in the glen calmly facing him

John entered the light shocked by her appearance

She spoke not a word but kissed him lightly on a whim

He raised his hand not allowing any interference.

John sighed, he could not remember his last kiss

Fairies fluttering and twinkling as if she were his bride

The sweet feel was too delightful to simply dismiss

Battle or kiss, let’s try that again before I decide

Fighting the Darkness© Lyn Crain

My salty tears cascaded silently by,
eventually ceasing leaving but a choked sigh.
It’s a bitter taste, this essence of sorrow.
Wondering if there will be a new tomorrow?

My utter sadness filled me with despair,
with an overwhelmed mind gone beyond repair.
My pretend existence is not real living.
Why are those in my life so damn unforgiving?

What the hell did I do to have such bad luck?
I’m beginning to think I don’t give a fuck.
I should give up, life has lost its splendor.
It’s totally fucking pointless, I surrender.

However, thankfully there was one glimmer of hope.
My stubborn muse gave me a way to cope.
Write, write even more so with my beloved pen
and paper I did just that with a fury, Amen!

My haunted memories became bold on the page

Releasing years of pent up rage.

After The Storm © Lyn Crain

The torrents of raindrops flee
randomly down the street
into the gutters that
take them to peaceful streams.

If only I had a place
like that of my own, too!
I’m tired of being just Mom
and fulfilling their oblivious dreams.

I want to flirt with fire in a bright red dress.
I want to kick all those dust balls aside.
I need to dance outside these confined lines,
not live in these lies of tight seams!

I envy the storm.
It does what it wants
and flows to places, I long to see
without all the angry and tireless screams!

102 w/c
16 lines