Dark Room

As I sit in the darkened room,
gasping through the unsettling gloom,
that which oppresses as oppressors do,
like to a brainless fool, a spineless mule,

I gave a slight tuck on the curtain with a finger,
peeked through the huge window with a slight shiver,
out to the blackest night, lit by street lights,
that betrays thick mist, naked trees and fallen leaves.

Then a flutter of some winged beast,
disappeared as it appeared,
frightened I started back to the blackest black,
feeling safe again, in the nothingness of the darkened room.

The comfort I realized then,
of a still room, with no past and no future,
of a still mind, with no pain and no joy,
of forever still stillness, of forever still time.