Night rode a long way,
to hide in the dark what might be,
secrets impossible to find conclusively,
imagery of light shading the reality.
Mockery from the inside hides the cause,
what might be guilty conscience speaking verbally;
about deeds, and every inept distress,
tumbling from the head with agony.
Fearful eyes rise in tears to breathe a dismal cry,
what might be taken for granted;
is often a misconception of reality,
offering the hope of illusion implanted.
Lusty shadows of night drawing near,
watched close by dark spirit,
wandering through the atmosphere,
expecting the soul to contradict.
Fear tremble beneath the veil of flesh,
deception covered what might be;
mercy shielding our secrets in darkness,
where the intention is to deceive.
Gerry Legister
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-might-be/
