Best Poem of Jack Ashenden

Phantom's Father
My heart is a phantom of its former self,
a blackened mass of darkest thoughts,
yet when I look upon you and your bad health
I begin to remember all that you have taught.

There was a time when I would smile and laugh,
a time when desire and ambition did not haunt my soul.
That time was when I sat and . . .
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A Twisted, Fractured Flight For Freedom
From high, the common horn doth blow, it's sound
a reflection of our darkest low thought.
We cannot escape - this doth confound
all of he'vn and earth that follow we ought.

Fully forward do we march, as dark eyes
do monitor our success
This sensation of the skies controls the minds,
obsession rules . . .
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