H.L Dowless’ poem: Walk Softly Into That Dark Night


Please walk softly into that dark night,

No use going out all bound up with a tense desire to fight;

The power of nature has its ultimate winning way,

Mankind must accept that it bears no final say.


Please tread lightly down that well worn 

Forlorn trail,

What lies ahead nobody anywhere can tell.

Don’t make any waves along the way,

In a time beyond maybe another day.


Nobody on earth has caused your hurt,

The Lord of Heaven deserves no raging outburst;

‘Twas only him in the beginning who gave you first life,

“Tis only him who can lead you through this gloom

And any potential wicked weight. 


Go out easily and smoothly rather than hard,

Keep thine eyes focused upon twinkling midnight stars.

Breathe out easily and simply let it all go!

Allow the curtain of secular life to fall down,

It's the end of mortality’s show.


Don’t go out with anger wound up inside thy heart,

Keep thy mind focused upon the next brand new start.

Soon ye shall know the answer to a timeless mystery.

You’ll learn all the bedazzling puzzles of human history.


Lie comfortably there in bed

And simply release it all out.

That’s what our final moment is really

All about.

Please don’t complicate it 

with loud screams

And bitter rages,

Unwind away freely

As you belong to blessed infinity’s ages.


Beseech thy forgiveness

And make this moment alright.

Do this for me

As you step off into a melancholy night.

Don’t face the temporal gloom 

With this bitterness in your heart,

Your future fate lies solid with each winking star. 

No mortal anywhere carries a life chart,

We all are doomed to take this journey 

From the very moment we start.


Thy mother can’t be there with you 

To guide you on your way.

Your father isn’t going to stand around

With any philosophical say.

Your lover can’t be there 

To hold either hand,

As you transgress toward infinity's Elysium land.


He who made you awaits there

To take you by the arm,

It's simply not his way to yell or

Sound any proclaiming alarm.

Reach out toward him now

While there's still yet plenty of time,

Lest ye be cast out into miserable perpetuity;

With no ears hearing you scream,

Wreathe and groan,

Or pine.


H.L. Dowless is a thirty five year writer who loves travelling and living life on the edge. He has loads of recent traditional publishing success stories to his name. 

Leave a comment