Shadows stretch long
               in dessicated wasteland
                                 yet still you find a way  
                                               to creep up on me

The conversation mute
               the number blocked
I was never supposed to hear from you again
then a chance discovery
               deep in cell phone memory
has all my portcullises descending

It is your reply to my last
               door-slamming censure
allowed through by an unknown feature
I set the phone down
               not quite ready for this
There’s so much in my life to be made right first

The message is a blade
               to be run through the soul
because I don’t trust you to have learned God’s voice
but if He has a plan
               still for you and I
I’ll have to pull back the curtains from your mind

Devils of Sorrow and Malice
               may have their way with me now
yet it is you who towers over all in the distance
for my own peace of mind
               I must be open to you again
even if today the message gets left on unread

Shadows stretch long
               in dessicated wasteland
                                   and I am terrified  
                                               of the dark of you
                                                          fast approaching