Dean Koontz


Demon Seed - Poem by Dean Koontz

Humanity yearns so desperately
to equal God's great creativity.
In some creations, how we shine:
music, dance, storyweaving, wine.

The thunderstorms of madness
rain upon us, flooding sadness,
sweep us into anguish, grief,
into despair without relief.

We're drawn to high castles,
where old hunchbacked vessals
glare wall-eyed as lightning
flares without brightning.

Laboratories in the high towers,
where the doctor wields power,
creating new life in a dark hour,
in the belfry of the high tower.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, October 3, 2013

Poem Edited: Thursday, October 3, 2013

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