The curtain is kept drawn, with Darkness
Peeking through slits, stealing Glimpses of the estranged, riding
The swaying chair, carved by suicide thoughts.
Beats upon the chest,
Thumping echo of the final drip
Caught still, while clenched eyes
Fear to open.
Panic in the cold morning,
When death becomes lucid
And less haunting, instead
Of uncertainty, you’re captured
In the spill into the everlasting moment
When we find ourselves lost.
As the light flickers, in the distance
A bitter flower blossoms within
The chocked heart’s rumble,
Suffocated throat in a noose, eats
Me whole, while wilting
From the haunted howl
In an underground garden, buried
Beneath my death, is the rising growth,
Wrapping up and through, swallowing
Whole are the twisted vines,
Thorn covered, scraping death off
The walls of my vanishing gullet,
Barricading, against the invasion
Of the slithering decay, looking
For its next meal,
Drugged, from an unsuspected bite,
Pulling me into the kaleidoscope
In the roots of this underground garden,
Lost, myself to its hold,
I’m swallowed whole.
Who are you?
What do you feel within, burning
At your chest,
Branded from the stalking voice
Parading in parts of you, undiscovered,
You don’t decide, you are the evil
That was before you,
Seen in the shadows of past,
Or good, shining through armour
But, are you too afraid
To show your valor?
Hoping for a different twist in the story.
She came, crashing in through my barricades,
Burning words inside my mind
And unleashing, the dormant hand
Upon the open canvas, where I spilled
Her blood, pouring from out her veins
All that was there, beyond my blind touch
And then, she vanished into the sleeping willow
As I wait for her, to grace her wing
Upon my vacant brow,
And I’ll sit by the open windows
Bearing my heart, to the winds of her soar.