One Star at a Time 


The depth that surrounds you can be overwhelming 

to any new voyager, so ease them in by showing

One star at a time and let them discover 

The complex galaxies that have blended together

 To create the vast land that lays before them 

Let the gate open, let down the shield and find 

The courage, sink all doubts to the crushing bottom, 

You don’t need them anymore, 

Float the key above the clouds where stars 

Have aligned for her, sink the disguise kept 

In the back of your mind, 

Float onto the insanity of the galaxies, 

They are what makes is glimmer brilliantly,

Display it all, one star at a time. 

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Searching for Control in the Avalanche 

I’ve fallen to the hush, as I bleed in the swaddle of distortion, 

Reaching for control, but I’m held back by panic 

Filling my lungs, having Chaos sniff for my scent,

The depths growing as I choke on the cold surrounding me,

The bitter taste engraving itself, on the back of my throat, 

A never ending climb out, prolonged by my crippled

Sight, caught in a violent haze that furthers my damnation 

That is comprised of my most vindictive demons, 

Taunting me in the avalanche, ripping out my voice

With their molten silver talons, dredging up the darkness,

 I’ve been through it all, the battered and bruised victim

Of anarchy in my own halls, shrinking atop of me,

As I fall asleep in that hush over a rat’s nest, nibbling 

At my control, down to the bone, now open to infestation,

Turning my harmony into pandemonium, I see doom

Climbing over the horizon, reaching for my grave,

Creaking is the casket as it opens, letting in mayhem, 

For even in the hush, it is Chaos who sets the stage, 

For Sanity’s gates, have been distorted. 

Devil in the Sea

The abandoned sea banks rock the decaying boats

That waver endlessly, against the barren docks,

Once, so alive and populated with thriving catches,

It now resembles a wasteland, long forgotten about,

But has it, just because no foot dares to occupy 

The unattended pier, does is get misplaced

To fend for itself against the punishment of time,

Slowly eroding the town into a whisper, all because 

A mystery beyond the black, the Devil in the sea, 

Its existence, clouded by a myth spread into panic,

A steep decline into oblivion, with no way back,

A horrid stench of rotting death pervading the heavy air, 

The scarred town living under the umbrella

Of this over told fable, to the point where it’s merely

A story told, repeating off different tongues, but

It’s true depth has been diluted, fabricated 

Into a ghost encounter, in which the lone survivor

Still buried in a living grave, wanders the true story

That won’t relinquish its talons from his forgotten mind, 

He has lost recollection of his entire past,

Except his Devil in the sea, which haunts his consciousness, 

It seemed like a distant dream for so long, until decay

Spread over all he knew, and all that was left

Was the glare from the dark empty water, 

On his last day, he started from the dock into the abyss,

Tightened his tie, and fell into the arms of the sea, 

But not before leaving, his telling of what happened, 

The day that had lived in infamy, for a different reason,

“I remember nothing, but the day I came to face

The Devil that roams the sea beside this stink town, 

It’s why I was so attached to the sail, free from the idiots,

I was happy amongst the open serene waters, 

And I knew them well, I navigated every channel, 

Bestowing my knowledge on a young eager sailor,

We would come back with bountiful catches, 

There was nothing better, I’d live in the sea if possible, 

One day, there were talks of an impending storm,

But mere rumbles weren’t going to keep me from my escape, 

I went out with the young lad, despite the warnings, 

In retrospect, I should have never left the dock, 

The winds were forceful, thrusting us off course

Into waters I never sailed, never even seen on any map,

Still within the eye of the storm, we did all that we could

To stay afloat, with gusts of stinging rain beating us,

The boat tipped so far to the side, I lost my grip 

Fell into the choppy ice water, swallowing me whole,

The lad did all he could to lift me out from the devour

Into the unsteady pulsating crumbling boat, 

Slowly vanishing into the storm, blending into chaos,

The thrashing underwater whirlwind tossing me down

Suffocating light, I saw nothing but the end to it all,

As I looked below me, I found a massive shadow 

That appeared as if from the shallow eternal dark, 

This shadow was monstrously big, stretched up towards me

But still, a figure of no distinct character, 

It seemed to have no end, going past the ocean floor

As it nestled me in it’s unlikely arms, to carry me out,

It leaned toward me, and passed me life in a kiss,

The storm settled, as the sun beamed down shining 

Light on an angel, no Devil or monster to fear,

She saved me from the Devil, as I found myself 

Reaching up for my boat, from waters I called home, 

I searched for her, days that melted into night, endlessly, 

So what better way to keep searching, then to die

In the waters that she found me, falling into the story

That has spooked her out of my life, I die to find her,

You’ll only live with a thread, of what you truly desire,

Although you’ll notice it, when it has crashed out

Of existence, pouring out for it, but it’s too late,

It won’t get easier, only more excruciating as you live on,

Searching, for even the slight resemblance, coming up empty.”

Spectacle 

They take their seats, waiting for the curtain 

To be pulled apart, to display their emptiness, 

Fixated, on the footsteps coming towards them

Occupying every hollow vacancy of the theater 

As the hum of anticipation follows, growing,

Congesting every row, eager for the blind to see

What they’ve packed into for, the spectacle, 

They’ve all heard from others, how marvelous 

Their experience was, a must see sensation,

They crowed over it, to again be the audience, 

In the midst of the slow decline of light, 

Fighting back their excitement, the stage

Starts to bear the standing spectacle, an error 

Of life, forced out into desolation, humiliated 

Night after night, for the brimming playhouse, 

The erect mush of torn rags and dirt smudges

Captivates, as a roar of laughter from the over 

Privileged ones that waste the high tide

Picking apart the staged impoverished fool, 

But who really sits within the puppet box,

Obedient to a hidden beggar, a crook of crooks, 

Toppling the towers from which they gawk 

At the overwhelmed spectacle, deceiving them,

Crippling their cannibalistic nature, lighting

The still spectacle, showing off it’s destitute 

To the roaring crowd, burying themselves in sin

Night after night, making the show a gratification 

That has astounded the upper streets, in turn

Making the poor spectacle, the biggest success. 

Battle Inside

Deep in the seclusion of this forest, lives a boy

And his demon wolf, defending what bonded them

In the inception of light under the lavish canopy

That shields the boy from the harmful spirited,

Until recently, when they have invaded the forest, 

Distorting the peace kept by the spread fable 

Of the haunting by this boy and his demon wolf,

As individual torches, the spirited, illuminates 

The forgotten darkness, cascading forth 

An avalanche of unwanted attention from the outside,

As these innocent looking spirits and their carnivorous

Intentions to breach light in through the eternal eclipse

That has been fought to stay intact by the branches

The boy and his demon wolf sleep under, 

But what spirit stays to itself, that dares not 

Tip the balance to the outside of insanity’s gates, 

So they clash beneath the melting fortress,

Disintegrating stem of suppressed serenity

With every strike upon the boy and his demon wolf, 

More invaders join the thundering collision 

Drying out every river slithering over every conformed 

Foundation stone of this dying hideout, running 

Away deeper into the black forest, enchanted 

By a need to forget, dream and imagine 

That the vivid reality doesn’t exist. 

©DorianPoe2016

Nightmare III

My latest post in my nightmare series where reality is bent and horror is limitless. A little more obscure than my other posts. Enjoy! 

I try to spit out what I’ve already swallowed, 

The lingering taste shrinks my tongue

And chokes my gasping regurgitation,

A virus, invading my castle and breaking stone 

To bring me to my knees, as darkness

Hovers over my feeble position, a spider

Approaches casually, surveying my horror, 

It speaks, not to further my horrid torment

But to give warning of those words I spewed, 

It expressed the terror it felt from the echo

Coursing through it’s vast tangeled web 

That I find myself caught in, a strangled prey

Hunted by the ghost I spoke of, reaching for me

In the dwelling light, abandoned by the spider

As I’m the captive of what I said, kept high

In the inverted tower weakened by the slither 

Of my expression, I wear shackles now

Holding me in the center of encapsulation, 

As all around me, looms above my perception

And the web has sunken in, taking me down 

Into the deepening pit, surrounded in torment

In which I hold myself, yelling at me collapsed, 

The spaces in the web fill in with onlookers

That pressure me down into the fathomless 

Making me hear what I said high pitched

Crippling me as all I can do to get away

Is run deeper into the void, looking forward 

Away from the collision of sound and mind, 

Escape being just outside of my grasp

With those words repeating in the tomb

That stretches on into an illusion of end, 

Never feeling the relief of the weight 

Upon my chest in the drowning pit slide off,

It weighs heavier, soaking every passing second

Until I, cease to be able to hold my tongue.

Spellbound 

Her lips, sealed by the witch’s thread and needle, 

Locking in what urges to scream from the insanity

Overflowing the cusp of her heart, drowning

In the cryptic silence, overly aware of the ripples

Surrounding her, inching it’s grasp closer, 

She shivers in the lasting echo of a fictitious howl

To doubt the cool wind that wants to carry her through,  

Disturbed by the offing that incarcerates her

In her very own mind, as she scurries to the corner

Hoping it’s tall curvy stature will cloak her,

Keeping paranoia as the pillow where she rests

While hiding from any light that shows its warmth, 

She slowly reaches out, slightly dipping the tip of her nail 

Into embrace, but quickly shrinks back into the collected 

Darkness, feeling comforted by the crawling fog,
Every serpent has found and taken from her garden

Closing her gates eternally, and banishing the luminous,

What can break the spell, that perches upon the cloud? 

What chance is there for the caged voice, to sing again?

Living the rest of her life, fearful of the word Love. 

©DorianPoe2016

On the Battlefield of Life and Death

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

image

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 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

Between the Growl and the Fog

image

My escape has been stunted, by the murky unknown
That stretches out before me, radiating
The creeping darkness, crawling towards me
From out the thick blindness, that I must get through,
The decaying bridge wavers in my hesitation
As the growling, grows louder behind me
Shaking the stiffled limbs that refuse to thaw,
Where will I be, if I strain into the ingesting fog?
Can I truly outrun the steady pursuant familiar
With my stench, studied my vacant steps
In the forever desert of consciousness,
Can I hurdle the giant’s stalk to make it past
My glooming premonition, stalking me,
Slithering my step an inch further down
While the growl pervades and interrupts the silence,
Which, in turn, forces another inch by inch
Until I’m fully immersed, into the coddling,
Sentenced to the overshadowed distance,
Lost, to the growl that has plummeted down
Into the looping void, still in its search,
I’ve failed in my escape, I’ve chosen the wrong side.