Unworthiness

not quiet poetry but more of the 17 year old me....

Walking in the corridor
The lights are down low.
I open the door at the end of the hall.
The moon is beautiful, a gorgeous glow.
I step out into the garden.
There is a lovely feast made.
Beautiful are the blood red roses.
On the ground they are laid.
The Dark One came
And gave the command.
I held my head down in shame.
I could not do what he did demand.
He told me to look up high,
That I did no wrong.
I could only stare and sigh
And say that I was not worthy of the song.
The song of praise that is my name.
The song that did
Cause so much pain.