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<~~~ Links to other pages and MY PIC are over there !!
"The nights are wholesome;
then no planets strike,
No fairy takes,
nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time."
--- William Shakespeare, Hamlet ---
Welcome to the Count's Coffin. You will find new poetry here added daily. All the Count's poetry is in purple. There will
be some of the best poetry and qoutes ever written listed on this site. I will be posting visitors poetry also. so if interested
mail to the link directly below.
NOTE: I believe that "love" is at the center of everthing...Although
I know that there are people out there that drink blood, I feed on enery of others and do not consume blood...The word "Vampire"
comes from midevil times and means { to feed }...It is my choice as well as there's to do and worship what ever they choose.
Even though my poetry does reflect a dark nature...Like all of us I have experienced a lot of pain in life and it reflects
in what I write. I am a child of light and the dark and the dark has much to explore.
P.S Most of the poetry
has been moved to the poetry pages in the link section top left of this page. All My stuff is in purple. Please Rate this
site and sign my guest book.
Count Gator
new e-mail address for the count
ATTENTION : Rate this site here by clicking the arrow and selecting 5-10 The highest being a 10, Thanx
Count Gator
While you lie in bed at night are you scared by the wake of dawn? Does the light of the new days sun appear to bright
for you to comprehend? What does this mean? There are many of us out there who are creatures of the night. Waiting to pray
on the weak and vulnerable people of the world. Is the night like a shot of of life in your vains? The night with all it's
mystery has secrets to be told. Enjoy this site and may the night last forever.
Count Gator
The Past
With all that I have done in life I feel so empty... The mistakes I have made haunt my very soul...
The coldness and bitterness have weaved a web in my brain...I ask myself what could I have done different.....Although I find
lots of answers, they are all to late to make any difference... As I try to go foward the nightmares of the past are grabbing
at my legs and arms not wanting me to go....As I stuggle to get free I pray that this horrible day will end so I can rest....
The problem is I know that the following day has some more of the same for me...Like a storm, a bad storm, it comes and takes,
and it leaves nothing behind but destitude and reminds me of my mistakes in the past...
Count Gator 02-21-01
( c ) 2001, Walter H. Lange.
NOTE : The Picture to the right that says Dave Carson, He is a great Artist...Best I have seen on the Net. If you want to
see his work E-Mail me for a link.
WHO
As I lay awake in the darkness, I wonder who I am. The shell that carries my soul is in a constant battle
with enemies unknown.....Though the darkness I see a light, but am afraid to go near it. Is it good or is it evil or does
it even matter....
As I drift away in to the darkness I wonder what or even who is dancing in my brain. When morning
comes the reality of life takes the place of my emptiness or does it?
02-15-2001
Count Gator
(c)
2001, Walter H. Lange
"To see God only, I go out of sight:
And to scape stormy days, I choose
An everlasting night."
--- John Donne ---
"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream
only by night."
--- Edgar Allan Poe --
No Way out
As the day grows long.. so do I long for the night.. Though the eyes of my spirit, I look down at
the evils of this world and wonder how long I can keep them from consuming me... As the night draws near I begin to feel safe
knowing that I can hide in the shadows... Then I realize that in
time the shadows of the night will again become engulfed
by the morning light and I know that it is hopeless.
Count Gator
02-16-2001
(c) 2001, Walter
H. Lange
Forever
When I see you there my skin fells alive as if there
were thousands of feathers ticking my whole
body...With every passing day my love for you grows like a new garden beginning with a small sprout and then reaching the
sky...
But, then I think about how gardens die and wither to the dust and I am reminded how all things end...I pray
for that garden that never dies and search for that eternal loving, growing feeling ...knowing some day there may be something
new that lasts for ever.
Count Gator
02-18-2001
(c) 2001, Walter H. Lange
Helplessness
I am helpless to change the past as it is rekindled in my mind... For as each passing day turns
to night the sorrows of my life are never left behind...I wander though the wilderness searching for that one thing or love
that may save me from the bottomless pit of sadness...but its a journey that is never completed...As in all of us we need
relief from the sorrows of life...As we think of past times we smile and cry and then we sleep knowing when we wake the pain
and joy will aways be the same...
I wonder if anyone shares my sorrows...Is it possible that there is another like
me? Or am I just trapped in the helplessness.
Count Gator
02-17-2001
(c) 2001, Walter H. Lange
ACQUAINTED WITH THE NIGHT
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain--and back
in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed
by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped
the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call
me back or say good-by;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed
the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
written by Robert Frost
"The night draws stars and women in a better light."
--- George Gordon, Lord Byron ---
How true this is !
THE NIGHT
O come with me into this moonlight world.
The trees are large and soft tonight,
With blossoms
loaded soft and white,
A cloud of whiteness furling and unfurled.
The houses give their sounds upon the
air
In muted tones and secrecies,
Their lights like laughter through the trees.
The evening breathes its
vows into our hair.
The evening puts its lips to throat and brow
And swears what it has sworn before
To
others and will swear to more.
The evening has its arms around us now.
---Author Unknown---
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