Writer's Island --- Corners

From cobweb covered corners
Whispering voices speak my name
Reminding derelict owner
They still languish there in chain
Exploring hollow recess
In the creases of my mind
Quietly shuttled to the corner
Replaced by those sublime
Misshapen and distorted
Fangs and claws sharp and willing
I imagine are these beasts
Bent on senseless killing

I find no gnarled creatures
Lurking in the crease
Merely ragged thoughts’ last gasp
Bemoaning their release
Resisting perfect mold
Their only petty crime
Perhaps conforming nicely
In another place and time
As for future days
I’ll gladly advocate
For even rogue ideas
Deserve a better fate