Silence, gripping her throat, as her eyes gasp
For air in the fatal heel clicks of his scythe,
Appearing from out the unknown reaches
Of abandoned lives, comes the cold shadow
To rape her of color, drag it while it scrapes
The hardened path to the underbelly of Sanity,
The demons playground, populated by the lost
And scorched by all those who continue to fall
Into the grasp of it’s engulfing sand, buried
On impact, as she feutily battles
With the dragging noose of that fable,
Shedding doubt, while the darkened fog
Swarms her mind’s sonnet, distracting
Her unsteady clutch around the fading light,
For all she desires before the inevitable plunge
Is one last glimpse, of those she’ll miss,
As the battleaxe slips from her grip, darkness
Comes toward her, places it’s cool hand upon
Her, and lulls her into it’s keep, tearing away
From her, all that she has nurtured
In her own arms, all that she frays for,
All the years of cuts and bruises on her heart
From this raging war that she bravely fought
To stay above the hollow echo, only to fall,
For death will always be the victor here
Despite our best efforts and strength,
She carries with her, the marks of victory
Throughout her war, that aged her well,
She’s now ready to let go.
Taming the Beast
She graces his cheek, with her frightened hand
As his subtle scuff of breath, envelopes her
While she dives into his chest, searching
For his battle drum at ease, trekking
His wielding arm, up to his inflamed chest,
Finding, along the way, scared lashes
From withstanding speared pitchforks
And shattered shards of glass, broken upon
His thick snakeskin that she breaks through,
And lull the Beast’s tenacious rage,
Her hand, presses gently on his stone gate,
A petal, decending down onto broken ground
Filling the cracks from its silk and perfume,
The Beast submerged with his beauty,
Her serenity from her smile and touch melts The stone, and gives way to her influence,
She tamed the Beast, and found his heart,
But sleeping demons, never stays unseen
As a crashing fire, bursts in through silence,
Tidal wave of fear under an uproar breaking down
And into a private and secure ground
That had just been set to rest upon a mantle,
The Beast wakes, but fears his own claws,
He sets his beauty in safety’s tall tower
And runs into the ingesting battlefield,
In the madness of the attack, the demons
Are lost to the beast and unearth his beauty,
They vanish back to their domain, celebrating
How they eradicated their foe
By removing the serenity that he lived for,
For without his beauty, there was no taming the Beast.
©DorianPoe2016
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