Shopkeeper

Posted on by the_dorian_poe
Artwork by Lukasz Matuszek

The sudden clatter of its doorway bells, gave a startling shake

To the settled dust, suffocating this dank and eerily quaint shop,

Only lit, by its multitude of ominous aquariums, littered with floating ghostly shadows

Cast, onto the patron’s face as they stand, mesmerized, by their haunting dance,

Unsure of what the glass tubes house, they enter, feeling the shift in space

As if they’re walking towards the current, forcibly pushing

While leading them further, into the darkly kept dwelling of the strange,

To the wandering eye, this shop might trip into glance,

Failing to capture intrigue, warded by way of a thick layer of neglect

Upon the untouched trinkets that possess a hint, of grotesque,

Gouged eyes, nestled within a tattered doll’s stomach, while holding a noose,

Sunken, to the bottom of the tallest tank, set to illuminate

The doll… and its other inhabitants, as they slither along the expansive tube,

Slicing in and through the fluffed entrails of the ornamental doll, picking apart its recent kill,

While the patron’s eyes are fixed, and show a curious admiration, for what lies amongst the forgotten

Scattered rubble of marinating organs, hideous demon masks and random deformities,

They hesitate to dive further, suddenly consumed by an uneasy feeling, of a stalking radiance,

Could it be the unearthly bust, depicting a deathly deity, framed by its flowing tentacles,

Or the collection of faceless burlap dolls, all sitting at attention,

But drawing them in closer, was the persistent hum,

They searched for the one who curated this collection of oddities,

Craning their sight over the stacked murky tanks,

Losing themselves further into the labyrinth, squeezing past all its devilish splatter

And finally making it to the counter, with its own, auspicious tank, and the steward

Staring down his intrusive patron, while clicking his sharp, crusty, nails,

Echoing them off the stressed podium, sending out waves of an icy twinge,

“Welcome, young sir, you look lost, did you truly mean to enter my shop?”

His last syllable popped, like an explosion of a fully expanded balloon from a sharp tiny, prick,

Almost offended by this intrusion upon his place of business, which begged, for attention

As the suffocating vacancies haunt the destitution of the aquarium,

And while his piercing glare stunted the patron’s procession, he demanded,

“Well… Approach my bench with whatever you’re totting under that trench.”

While never breaking his transfixed survey, they ascended, tentatively,

And slowly uncovered a white rectangular box and solemnly resting it upon the altar,

Still feeling the radiation of his gaze, ignoring the slow drooping salve in the shopkeepers’ ogle,

They finally broke their silence, easing off of their own stifle,

“I wish I could say it was the vanity of your shop that drew me in, but it was by word.”

A stale silence engorged, within the tension of their occupied space

Until a furious explosion from the quirky merchant…

“I stay shrouded until needed, and by your stance, and this bleak capsule

Presented in such dismay, to my auspicious deliberation,

Blasting! In through my quaint shop, alive simply on referral,

Unapparent, the moment the heart within this box fails to be relevant…..”

Paralyzed, in a recollection from placing his hand upon the recently departed

And then taking a deep breath, inhaling the aura of the grim, yet somber container,

“Although…. I may be able to devour your suffering, and supress

The devastation by way of having what was entwined within you, ripped apart,

At the stem, so the memories can pleasantly haunt, instead of giving a crushing finale.”

“So what I was told, incidentally, happens to be of merit

That you’re to ingest my  emptiness, that has suffocated me, within this existing torment?”

“Not exactly I, but my spirit non the less- did you express your appearance here within my invoked heart, is by error?”

Sunken into his chest was a shade of disbelief, as those words caved his momentum,

“I happened to be within a barely audible range, when I overheard about your bizarre services,

What I had believed to be the absence of direction, had in fact found my scent

Drawing me onto the whispered path, familiar, yet shadows of secracy exist,

For while doubting your existence, I stumbled upon your elusive illustration,

Baffled by its unusual appearance, I remain in battle with it’s presence

Yet here I stand, subservient to your merciful obliteration, to bring forth a chapter in my prose.”

“You may bear knowledge of my curious presence, but beyond my services

For I’m more curious about what lies beyond your, closet door, so may I excavate your orbital tunnels?”

The hum of all the aquariums were nevermore evident, than within the sudden silence

Following that cryptic collection of utterances, that echoed out, requiring reply,

But they were stifled by fright, from display of his widely stretched grin,

Yet the curiosity of his odd proposal led them to respond by asking, “How do we begin?”

~~

The next morning, ferrying a captured memory, they pensively entered the shop,

Noticing, the first expansive tube now housed, a small slithering shadow

And only a small pile of tattered cloth, were they the remains from a recent devour?…

While their steadfast approach to the fated podium never fully wavered,

They stared into the fractured window, thick webs entangled within their reflection,

An entire weave, of cogitation spiraled out from the eternal darkness of their crowded mind,

They blindly felt for salvation, eclipsed over, rusted shut, left alone on the wasted shore,

Yet a soft corrupted whisper slithered along the nape of the casket, seducing a faint pulse

As the drum of their approach had suddenly halted, from sight beyond their surveillance,

The obscurity-tender’s sudden obstruction, upon the visitor’s scrutinous order,

While entrancing the stale wind back into its stone basket,

A veiled force, easing their firmly tensioned coiled grip around their sight,

As the proprietor slunk out to curtsy in acknowledgement of their returning patron,

“To my delight, you brought what I asked in great haste

For this shall be a nefarious treatment, one I’m eager to embark.”

His grin possessed a hint of deviousness, snuffed down by his furthering remarks,

“There is evil within memories, these tubes, help guide them out so that I may harvest,

While baracading their incessant returns, uninvited, and intrusive,

But to know exactly what needs to be extracted, we must plunge through the depths of your erosion,

With no way to really prepare you…” He twists away his upper body, facing the tube,

“Injections of such alien matters, may have some odd reactions to the environment you present.”

“…you mean to disclose a warning?! That this procedure could mean, my death?”

Deeply sighing through his question, “Your pain stamina will hold up the bridge,

No way to explain what can occur during this intrusive probe,

Hush your concern and calm your nerves, my presence shall guide you through the beyond,

Now, step to the podium to speak of terms.” Continuing to contour,

Pulling his arm away from the tube, directing his acquired patient,

And without further clarity, their approach had been concluded upon placing down the photo,

Their agony, once only possessing warmth, now swings the creaking pendulum,

Entrapment, as he dives into gaze beyond sweet remembrances of companionship,

Tight, as death pulls on those frayed strings of the departed

And chokes the one left to mourn, drowning in their icy clutches,

As a sudden ferocious crash of the grinning salesman’s palm, onto the photograph,

Shakes them loose as the image is encapsulated, living as a new etching upon the podium,

Attempting to lead their hand towards it, the erratic patient snatched it back,

Cradled against their chest, fearing what sinister intentions he meant to administer,

“You must let me guide you towards the grooves of those ember grains

Find the path they create, traverse across, inside your grand hall,

Bestowed upon your sight, as the ferried guide, unbeknownst to you within your cloud.”

They slowly loosened their defenses, releasing the looming mistrust,

Gazing out into the horizon, finding themselves abruptly abroad,

Frozen in fear, they lightly tilted their view below, towards a shoreline,

Pebbles, wrestling below their feet as they nestle down below the crash of a wave,

They were no longer in the shop, they couldn’t grasp ground over where they existed

As they settled into a crouch, peering into the hazy void,

Noticing a faint light, wobbling closer, slinking out into clairvoyance,

Angering the dormant hull, realizing the soft tatter of the pebbles, now a tremor,

A growl expanding higher, as does the cloud, cresting into view,

The dense haze Birthing the shopkeeper, as he glides along the curdling of the jagged current,

Encouraging his Steadfast approach to the perched manic impression,

Embracing his patron within his gaze, he broke through, into their palace,

“Quite the furious entanglement that plagues your escape,

Although, this has the potential of immortal elegance, levitate beyond the hollow hush,

I require you, exposed, don’t lock up, a shop must always stay accessible to their patrons,

Now, allow me to surf along your aisles to browse your mind.”

The grumble grows louder, expanding over itself as the tremors start to splinter the glass,

“LET ME IN!”,  bellowed from deep within the cavernous keep,

Encumbered at the gate, entangled by intrusive clanks from it’s shackles

Hitting hard against the hollow dormancy, where the echo pools,

“LET ME IN!!”, the barrier swallowed whole by his demand,

Transcending their separation, the ferryman, guided beneath stubbornness, dove

Between the shroud and rose in through the splinter in the twined chain weave,

A soft echo emerging within them, finding themselves in absence,

Staring at the familiar ghost, being ferried to the heart of the oblong cased shopkeeper,

Reaching over the tidal push, clinging, to their shared anchor,

Squeezing onto its rickety choke, being ushered outward, stretching, blending with the horizon,

“Fin, to our contracted connection.” They were left upon their island,

Peering out, watching the shopkeeper take a proper, ovational bow,

Opening the land of ranges, and receding the suffocating ocean depths,

~~~

A blurry white, as their eyes fluttered awake, but it was a familiar popcorn ceiling,

They were in their bed, in their room, in the warmth of their domain,

A soft glimmer peeked in, nudging, for attention beyond the blackout curtains,

But something felt out of tilt, within their own cognition, and without precise certainty,

Slowly pried themselves up, crouched over and cradled their percussive hulking awareness,

Ill-equipped to face the labors of the day, they soldiered the forge, for normalcy,

Consumed by collating standard lines, framed by tall padded walls of their cube,

Oblivious to the compatriot, calling for attention at its only escape,

Shaken from the submerged rabbit hole, and dragged back, from their sudden syncope,

“I recognize the delirium, but I don’t recall why, were you a visitor to some crusty shop

Hidden, in plain sight, that promised relief to a crippling grief?”

“My location had eluded me, until you ignited a spark, when you said crusty,

Nails, sharp, tapping finely atop his stage, faintly lit stage left, his pet,

And they STOLE…”, mouth gaping, confused in the emptiness of memory, and just chuckled,

As did the compatriot, and they moved on about the labors of the day.

Around the far corner, and down the hall, across to the other side of the building,

Another grief stricken soul, peaked in, and heard their conversation.

~~~~

“For a successful business such as mine, you should have a deep pocket of coveted referrals,

They come to eradicate the weight, pressuring their grief throughout their mind,

They come to me, for my unforgiving closure, and newfound bliss,

For side effects from services may include short term memory displacement, everlasting,

Only seen by those dawning, a similar hooded cloak, entrapped in their festering grief,

Haunting the moments left to recall the ghost, walking in with it on their shoulders,

Payment due by way of all those clingy poltergeists, food, for my aquarium,

And a small, but generous fee for me, the shopkeeper,

Now, excuse me, my bell has just rung, time to put on my grin.”

Stained Purity

Posted on by the_dorian_poe
Artwork by Ryu Eun Hye

A heavy darkness, is draped, and framed around her sullied grief,

For she never thought of his heft, until the severed head

Of her dear father, stoutly rested upon her hollow chest

While she intently stared, through the heavy curtain of the night,

Into his pale blue lifeless eyes, that almost seemed, to reciprocate,

Was just her eyes, reflected back in the frigid shallow depths

Of her king, whom she once revered, with a kingdom, that despised his rule,

A lost empire, they walk blindly, towards the brim of the cuff,

As the stains of treachery, seep deeply, into the fibers,

Pain, trapped in the talons of deception, running rampid

In the grand castle, housing death, of those fallen to the shrouded blade,

It was the world in despair, perched, upon the young girl’s shoulders

As she softly asks, “Why?”, waiting for those cold lips to part, and answer,

But the eerie dead silence, weighs heavier, than the rotting disjoin,

How could she knock on the gates of sanity, expecting sincerity

When all it does, is ignore the plea of the lost, and of the broken,

But does that mean, the axis you’re buried in, has to be your grave?

A question, she struggled with, as she gently placed her father to rest

Upon the stained royal threading, like the one, sunken into the ground,

She vacated her bed, and approached, her blurred reflection,

Only, there was something else, peering back through the looking glass,

As she crept in close, she found a tight huddle of decapitation,

Painted, onto the folds, in rigid strokes that blended its unsightly disorder,

Which pierced the veil, straight into the heart of her innocence,

She questioned their appearance, searching her deprivation

For clues to clarity, knowing, their presence was the real query,

But her concern, was their striking anger, pervading desolation,

Nothing, but the whispers in her ear, from voices long snuffed

Out of existence, to be resurrected, in her hour of torment,

A glaring stain, that’s all it was, she repeated back, drowning the voices

Suddenly surrounding her, enveloped by their breath,

A rising fog in her narrowing canal, leading her back to the surface,

“Your hands!” – the voices repeated, like a skipping record

Echoing off each other’s final syllable, heard eternally

In her mind, as her fading grip on the tangible, loses the edge,

While these voices, coming from a mirage of floating deceased familiars,

Continued their repetitive chant, and feeling those words vigorously rattle

Against her chest, drowning her, in the avalanche of their onslaught,

Still hearing it’s chime, as it shakes off the rust, a ghost from her past

And a rising chill, that slices through, as time stands still

Atop the broken pendulum, forgotten about amongst the rubble,

Hooked, into her consciousness, as it slithered through her senses

Leaving behind a grave remembrance, like a figure in ragged cloth

Slowly scraping its scythe, along the conscious dread,

She felt it’s jarring slither, invading her temple, tightening it’s grasp,

As she ripped herself out, from the inside, and examined the parasite,

It’s familiar villainous glare, captured, her bewildered attention

And dragged it, with its thorny tentacles, tattering along her entrails,

Purging this alien being, examining it in a stunned silence

As she becomes consumed by this evil, stretching out, spilling

Onto her crumbling perception of her own sanity,

Who were these gruesome faces, glaring, at the poor girl, losing her religion,

Starting her monologue in order to rationalize her madness,

Trying to convince herself, that it was only a haunting mirage,

But then she noticed her cage, was slowly shrinking, tightening its choke

Around the absolute, leaving her gasping and frozen, in it’s imprint,

Grasping her head, as if it was the only way, to keep it attached,

Closing her eyes, feeling for tranquility, to which has dissipated,

Leaving her stranded, alone, in the complexity of this moment,

As “Your hands!” again, reaches out from the infinite darkness

Of her own chambers, where these faces, have found birth,

Or have they been stationary, from before the dawn of her time,

Only now, breaking silence, as they catch her terror-filled attention,

Dragging her sight back towards the perched dominion,

Pulling her in, staggered over, planted back on her stained damask,

And strayed her sight, to what she hoped, was a horrific illusion,

Tucked up into the bedstead, as watchful eyes follow, meeting her gaze,

Piercing her shaken soul with their watchful daggers,

Then, in unison, they speak… “Your hands, carried our words

Lost eternally, in the tears crashing down, for we are known!”

Feeling, the wakening cracks of her dessert tongue

As she forces speech, wide eyed and dismayed,

“Known… by who? What is the reason for this horrifying presence?”

“Your hands carries our weight, our debt, in the blood you spilled.”

Those last words, chimed around in her sunken skull,

The horror still perceived, within her bewilderment,

“Who’s blood?!”… was she already bathing in it, taken from the guillotine,

As she crashed against stone, constructed in her own clouded mind,

Stopping her from cognizance, dormant, upon her padded frame,

As she was afraid to lose her grip, upon the shadow that she cast,

For she did recognize the gazing, frightening huddle,

She bolted herself onto her likeness, speaking to her past, suffocated

Under the anchor she drew upon herself, forced deeper

Into the shadow of her virtue, until the moment it had shattered,

For her empire, collapsed, under the weight of treachery,

Losing sight of anything further, past the point of her father’s doom,

Suddenly the room spun Her around, as the ragged cloth approached

With a dusty veil, draped from its crown, scrapping a scythe of bone

Beyond the deep of its narrow cave, toward her illumination,

And it’s true reveal, slowly pulling back, shedding the darkness,

Divulging, the unkempt veil of matted, and tangled hair

That seemed to blend, into the stained ragged cloth it wore

As it continued to replace, the space between them, groaning,

And dragging its skeletal foot, beyond, onto the foreground of her disbelief,

There, amongst the spinning silence that entwined their convergence,

Was the distant shadow, now in front of her, a glaring reflection,

As her insanity grew from the heart, it was awakened, by her mind,

A sinuous mound in the collapse, down to her frail knees,

Suddenly, the little girl, was a fallen angel, amongst the bones of time,

Her own moment, calcified, while being buried alive, within insanity,

“I know the gruesome expressions on the faces, peering through the shallow’s deep.”

Awoken, by the beast of her own hollowed out incarceration,

She was never far, from its breath, heavy upon her nape

And reminded constantly, of the head she had torn off, by sharp steel,

In order to save an empire, that fell, along with their queen,

But even though she had retired the beast, it tends to rise, eventually.

51422 D. Poe

Carhartt Men’s Fleece 2-in-1 Hat https://a.co/d/8TLO9Y6

After the Fall

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

He bursts into the dimly lit room, jarring, the settled silence,

Thrashing the stillness, and corrupting the somber space,

A disorganized orchestra, shouting at the splattered chaos

As he creates a hurricane, shredding this once, happy home,

While seen past the draped rainfall, and heavily clouded windows

Is the lucid view, of his distress, sprayed across the scuffed floor,

For every object he grabs, is another painful, shrillful chill

Singeing, up his spine, sending him on this path of destruction

Where each object is pitched, and fragments upon impact,

But the life from them, vanished long, before this night,

He used to hear their heart, caged, inside their silence

And let them sing, encouraging their spirited orchestra,

Now, a lackluster remembrance, within the death of inspiration,

As he continued his warpath, plunging further down his rabbit hole,

Suddenly, a hollow knock slices through the palpable air,

Interrupting the madness, or perhaps, further igniting his rage

As another hollow echo, drums, along the crumbling shack,

Thoughtfully hidden, deep into seclusion, yet discovered,

Again, is the deep thud, forcing him to charge towards the source,

And without caution, he thrusts open, his chamber door,

His face, flushed with plum, at the realization, and he whispers,

“What if this, is the hell, that I live in?”

He finds the jagged sliver, just by his foot, dancing a reflection

Onto his face, begging him to lift it, from the cold floor,

“There is no one at my door, yet there knocks one’s persistence.”

As he creekingly shuts the door, unsure of the origin

To this maddening knocking, that starts to resonate, in his crowded mind,

With the door closed, he stood there, resting his sweaty head

Upon the stressed door, listening, to the broken silence,

And then, a thunderous voice appeared, from right at his neck,

Spun around, he caught gaze of an unknown man before him,

“How have you come to be at my toes, I saw no one enter.”

“You invited me, don’t you recall our conversation just before?”

A vacant look, upon his face, puzzled by this stranger,

“Here, let me remind you of what you have clearly misplaced,

I was knocking, for what seemed like an eternity,

Until you threw open the door, startling me,

We spoke, briefly, until you let me in, and here we speak.”

“But you knocked.” Still with a slight hesitancy,

“Yes, I did mention, its how you finally came to be in my presence,”

No, you knocked again… after, while I held the door ajar.”

“I see, that is strange, was that how my previous knocks resonated?”

He took in the sight of the stranger, his smile, deeply curved,

“Why do you ask?” Leaning back further against the door,

“A curious soul, please, if you could answer my query.”

“They all sounded similar, not one different, from the other,”

And as the last syllable, left his lips, the walls stretched,

The ceiling, along with the attached racing fan,

And molding back, into himself being behind the wheel,

Parallel parking, into a tightly narrow space, success!

The sun shined down upon his face, as he smiled up at its warmth,

Suddenly, that same hollow explosive thud, bounced through the air

As it all went black, until he walked back in, angry,

But never bothered with the reason, why his temper flared

As he had returned, home from an ordinary day,

But for him, it was sweet, with warmth in his embrace,

Her face clear behind closed eyelids, with the sun as the projector,

Stolen, robbed of her smile, as he came home,

Lifting objects with her essence, hoping for her vision to return,

As his anger grew, unable to return from the crypt,

“You’re the devil!” With a rising anger in his proclamation,

The stranger chuckled hard, at his absurd statement,

“I’m the one that shot you, grabbed your money

And ran into the street, blindly, and was struck by a speeding car,

This is my hell, this is my house, you’re throwing my things,

Please, I beg you, please stop destroying my home,

A blank look upon his face, “Why are you in here?!”

Pushes the stranger out, slams the door, locks it,

A fire in his eyes rises, as he sees the chamber, put back together,

And starts to thrash, the resurrected home, his whole world,

While the stranger stands outside, getting smashed

Repeatedly, by the car that killed him, to the chaotic orchestra.

For Survival

Posted on by the_dorian_poe
Artwork by Stefan Koidl

This world, is no longer for the living, while I perch

Over the dead, about to send another, into the black,

But the gun tremors in my pale hand, frozen in my glance

As my mind replays memories, that have lost its vibrance,

For they, are of a distant time, an unrecognizable landscape,

Where bones, don’t crack under my wandering steps

Like twigs, that echo, in a densely fogged forest,

A graveyard, that rattles the chaos, of my solitude,

Being stalked by an army of hollow abominations,

To which I’ve been evading, fleeting, their blinding ferocity,

Hunting for life, I scoured through the muddy desert

Only to reemerge, inside the domain of the hungry horde,

Salivating, at the palpable stench, of my hurried pulse

As I widely stared at the tidal wave, hastily approaching,

A flutter of a memory, flashed across, the dooming onslaught

Their rigidly sharp and broken teeth, a constant waking nightmare,

No time for trips down days of pleasantries, my dreams were now reminders,

How many times, I had to scour from the rotting corpses,

Instinctively cloaking my breathing, in a choking silence,

No deflection for my presence, as they would near hastily, and hungry,

A new world order, for survival, the choice was to devour the decay,

Forcing raging bullet, after bullet into endless vacancies,

Crushing the lingering light, entombed, into their decomposing after,

Except for a stranded one, struggling to escape the claws of an old bear trap,

That’s how I sighted him, my trail mate, for a moment

Until, I hovered over him, in this open cage

With the gun, still stammering, in the biting stillness,

Standing there, fighting off the flooding of memories, to no avail

As the genesis of the collapse, barged in, and shackled my mind

To a muffled cognizance, as it magnified in my trance,

Shoved back, into a hysteric argument, with my kid brother,

A city under arrest, witnessed from the height of our window

While the shrieking in the background, distracted our focus,

The world, was folding in on itself, as panic, fueled the turmoil,

Struggling, we continued our debate, our next move, for survival,

Which was our pledge, we drudged through, the flooding darkness

That had crept at our heels, forcing us into the undertow,

We overcame the sinister anchor, there since our abandonment,

But what hatched from the darkest depths, was far more bleak

With the radiating sun, blaring down upon the exposed,

Transforming all those, vulnerable, to the sun’s intrusion

And dispatched, from their solemn routine

Into a crazed, ravenous shell, hunting down the impervious,

The sun’s bewildering metamorphoses, punctured, our barrier,

Leaving the immune, at the mercy of these hellions

As they thrashed, at our gates, prying the metal apart,

Letting in the rush of the stampede, overtaking the realm,

Their tumbling chaos, echoed, through the narrow emptiness

Coming up the stairwell, as everything else, was stifled,

Forced into a corner, with the funneled horror, about to breach,

By the pounding, at the barricaded, splintering entryway,

Left with no option, we absconded down the fire escape

To the alleyway, amongst an expanded turbulence,

Plagued, throughout the stripped city, a disturbing battleground,

Frightened, in the daunting midst, of a world gone insane,

We wrestled our way, dodging countless feral slaughters,

One after another, chasing, after our frantic flee,

Becoming a worse terror, when the horde forced us, to separate,

I lost him, in the howling crowd, swallowed in the distance

As I found my way, to safety along the city’s edge,

But without sight of my brother… staying hopeful, for his survival,

But there it was, etched into his pale wrist, “For Survival”,

As the flooding returns, further, than I have been in a while,

Finding myself, watching through the window, the lively neighborhood,

Then noticing myself, in the close reflection,

Young, and totally unaware, of the forthcoming dread

Despite all the chatter around us, and the subtle panic,

There was nothing, that my brother and I couldn’t devour,

For survival, we defied the suppressive hands, of our foster families,

Ran away, reaching Olympus, only we didn’t belong amongst this crowd,

Two teens, in a chaotic city, hands out for loose change and scraps,

For survival, we found odd jobs, taking us away, from the corner,

Stability, eventually embraced us, as we basked in it, surviving,

A repetitive daydream, but appreciative of our struggles,

So much so, that my brother got a permanent brand,

A small, black lettering tattoo, on his wrist, “For Survival”,

I suggested we get a drink, to celebrate his fresh ink

As we walked to the bar, he stared through the plastic covering,

I gave him a slight nudge, and expressed

“I wouldn’t have overcome so much without you by my side. “

He smiled, nudged me back, saying, “And I without you brother.”

As we walked amongst ourselves, forgetting the rest…

Now, after these eternal winter months, that had weakened the carnage,

My search ended, towering over what was left, of my kid brother,

A monster of the sun, drowning, in the cold rushing blaring light,

Enveloped in the darkest of moments, for after endless searching,

With tears, building in my throat, I try to steady my hand

As I tightly grip my eyes around this illustration,

A memorial that will be a new kind of torment, a new meaning

To our oath, and squeeze the heavy trigger,

Breaking the silence, followed by the squawks of scavengers,

Leaving me, to my memories, for survival.

 

Toychest

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

Childhood locked in a chest, stored in the dusk of the attic

And buried, amongst the years, forgetting the toychest

And it’s contents, that had been there, throughout his youth,

All that directly links, to moments, that kept him awake,

Deep scraping along his bedroom, ripping at the wallpaper,

Frightened in the dark, as the shadows play on the ceiling

Cast, by his perched toys, on his shelves that dropped to the floor,

The plastic rattling, as they slowly drag against the rug,

That even now, the white noise of his fan, drowns the memories

As he wrestles, with the chest, fighting the current,

As the chest, thumping closer and closer, shrieks,

Jarring out from this terror, in a panic, a cold sweat,

A sullen voice on the phone, conveying disheartening news

A trail, leading him home, after one, taking him into the distance,

A vacant house, of stale comfort and soulless posessions,

Nothing stirring within, touring his familiar, unrecognizable halls,

Then preparing to rest, in his childhood bed,

A distracted presence, occupying, his swimming head

Hearing that thumping outside of his usual nightmare,

Mimicking, his own heartbeat, echoing off the stripped walls,

He peers out into the dread, gasping, trying to regulate his breath

As he sees, the paint, melting away, up towards the attic door,

The beating getting louder as he nears, hypnotized

By those steady, groaning deep thumps, grabbing his attention,

Standing below its access, releasing the hatch

As he climbs, through the dense flowing dust,

Finding the thumping had ceased, not even a creak

Of the floorboards as he nears, the lowlit backend,

Finding his locked away fears, pounding at the silence,

The latch withers in his hand, letting loose, all he entombed,

In the darkness, the pounding that shook the shelves

Which knocked over his toys, and the scratching, at his walls,

Enters his chest, grips his speeding beating heart

And whispers to him, “Nevermore”.

Pleading with the Demon

Posted on by the_dorian_poe
Artist unknown

The rushing surge of guilt, hinders my feeble mind

As I stare, at my trembling, blood soaked hand,

I awoke from my paralysis, to find a disheartening scene

Splattered across the floor, viscious and animalistic,

Vague in my recollection, yet sufficient, to plague contriteness

As I drown, in the vivid horror of my wrongdoings,

How I tortured and mutilated, being amongst the wicked,

Vanquish my enemies, and allow me to proceed

Down, the shrouded path, far away from this stain,

An eternal echo, that calls to me, chilling my disposition,

It haunts my every move, leading me to a grave I’ve myself dug,

A corruption of my soul, within these bone walls

That I can no longer be surrounded by, its tightening grasp,

With every detail of that night, furiously engraved

Into itself, staring at me, an unforgiving surrounding,

Release these enemies from my crowded back

With more approaching my front door, weakened, by the ghost

That remembers, why I’ve fallen to my knees in this trench,

Trying to dodge paralyzing thoughts, anchored to the crown,

Living in this tangent, scratching at the complacent walls

Hoping, for a break of light to peer through the dense viscosity,

I can’t be here anymore, stranded in my own torment

Following my own deceit, deeper, tucked into the corner

Crouching, from an advancing, floating ominous veil,

Before me, the Demon materializes, fearing his words,

“I find it laughable, that you believe, your disguised penance

Will release you from your guilt, and even this cell,

For its you, who has attracted these enemies to your doorstep,

No demon was the puppeteer, during these heinous sins,

How many lives did you crumple, and stuff, into a box,

Rot in this cage, before you descend to relentlessly agony.”

The demon slowly vanished, leaving the man alone,

He looked around at the cold abyss, cradled his sorrow

And endured crushing solitary, fearing, what lies after his passing.

Death’s Keep

Posted on by the_dorian_poe
Art by John Kenn Mortensen

She reached upwards, for safety, with her peach skinned hand,

While reflected in the murky, engulfing sea, was death

As it grabbed her ankle, with its snake skinned hand,

Pulling her away, towards the abyssinian inferno,

Her soft, full of life hand, was eroding into nothing

As her savior, had no means of liberating her from doom,

Tying the dock anchor around himself, he dove into the abyss,

Without sight to guide him, he felt for her, but touched emptiness

Instead of the cascade of her embrace, as he was enveloped by distance,

So he slowly climbed back, onto the petrified dock

Where he could stare out, into dark and violent waters,

With waves, crashing ferociously, against the trembling banks,

No longer, could he hear her, submerged into death’s clutches,

But who could, over the constant crash, on the boundless battlefield,

Where soldiers, lose their nerve, standing at the crest

Being baited, by those lurking beneath the hollow surface,

And like those soldiers, he stood frozen in the unknown

That grasped at life, and dragged it through affliction,

Beyond his fear, there was his purpose, sinking rapidly,

And to resurrect her, he’d have to venture, into the deep.

~II~

He climbed into a beaten lifeboat, paddled, against the waves

Which grew in its brutality, but couldn’t restrain his persistence,

Onward, further from the platform, into the open grave,

Crucial exchanges of blows, paddle to water, overlapping

Onto the frail boat, as the waves, growling in their approach,

Fight to consume the traveler, in the sound of watery fury,

As he paddled, frantically, he kept sight on the horizon

Past the plunging valley, intertwined with waves,

Narrowly escaping, the clutches of the crushing drowning,

He found himself, in the abounding open, on calmer tides,

For it was, eerily quiet, no birds squawking overhead

Or the wrestle, of the current against the side of the boat,

Nor the paddle, breaking thought the surface of the water,

There was no sound here, as he yelled out to the Devil,

“Come back and fight me, for she is not yours to take!”

He couldn’t be certain, if those words, even projected,

Surrounded by the choppy water, beside him, sits his terror,

As a faint sound, flows, along the tops of the water,

A siren guide, appears, with no desire to be his aid,

“Hello, silly traveler, who has foolishly ventured too deep

For you do not belong amongst these riffs, reverse your path.”

“I cannot, I’ve come to retrieve a life, taken in error.”

The spirit chuckles lightly, pauses briefly, and echoes in response,

“Death makes no mistakes, precise, for it’s by great design.”

“She doesn’t belong beyond the black, for she is of great importance,

Your design is gravely flawed, and she must be revived”

She chuckles again, and comes in closer to the still boat,

“You believe, you are currently speaking with death,

That I am the one, who can revive life, to be amongst the animate,

You, silly traveler, are the one who is gravely flawed,

To death’s sunken dwelling, is no simple tiptoe trail,

Your vigor will be tested, before accessing the devil’s domain,

But I am curious, I’d like to see the outcome of this encounter.”

She floats her finger, pointing further, into the cold hush,

And told him to continue, towards the bleak eternal,

Then vanishes, with a nudge of wind, forcing the sail.

~III~

Alone, in the dusk, with the boat lamp highlighting solitude,

Silence reemerges, drowning the traveler in the ominous,

A faint howling silence, that seizes the boat’s motion

While the stillness, gets louder, and slightly more discernable

Each time a wave, subtly splashes along, the boat’s feeble side,

A voice, calling out from beyond the darkness, his focus

Searching for him, below the crumbling shed of light,

No, it wasn’t her, a voice that sends biting pricking needles

All throughout his being, shaking him down to his knees,

He now recognizes, his voice, that keeps repeating an utterance,

It continues to circle, like a pack of vultures, about to strike,

Suddenly, in a cold snap of a second’s tic, “You cannot save her!”

A monstrous echo, that sent a daunting chill, into his chest

At which he grabbed, and gasped for empty breaths,

Refusing to sink into the crushing deep, back against the wind,

The traveler stood up, grabbed the paddles and took charge,

As he noticed a slither, hastily warping the water,

Streaming like a torpedo, aiming straight, at the feeble boat,

With growing raging waves, so fierce, following closely,

Nearing the boat, with tremors from the speeding approach,

With the winds on his side, he evaded wave, after wave,

Until, he steered too far in, and was struck, by a forceful current,

The boat, reduced to splintered pieces, now floating, aimlessly,

As the traveler, tumbles along the stirring undercurrent.

~IV~

Waking up, after an uncertain, amount of time,

The traveler finds himself, on the shore, of a brittle island,

A voice, snatches his attention, spins him to face death’s throne

By suddenly booming, the very first audible sound

He has heard, since the first steps down this rabbit hole,

“Are you the bringer, of this, supposed force majeure

That believes, he can sway and overturn my mind,

No one, who is snatched into my web, ever gets released.”

Shaken down to the ground, with fear and anger battling,

The traveler, with only his eyes, looked up at the abductor,

“She belongs unchained, far from your dominion,

She isn’t finished, there’s more for her to accomplish

And removing her from existence, stunted her growth.”

“And why should I be concerned, her meaning, is minimal. “

“To you, she’s a faceless object, occupying space that’s irrelevant,

Except to me, those grounds she graces, are the purest,

This is my end, not hers, for it was my fault we crashed,

I hesitated, froze, at the barrelling trailer, stampeding,

And colliding with our vehicle, sending us towards the edge,

But a sudden collision, with the sturdy dock barrier

Kept me inside, while my little girl, had been taken,

As if I had willingly, given her up, to the black hooded cloak.”

“Your daughter, vacated existence, onto the carving of my scythe,

Could the devastation, really be boiled down to your failure,

Your weight to carry, as you suffer from the doom of the crash,

Yes, for it’ll plague your days, an exemplary hell, on earth.”

“Unless you take me, let me sink in the void forever

While my daughter continues, and lives out her days.”

A grumbling silence, as death slowly descends,

Coming, to face the traveler, standing on the fragile shore,

Still towering over him, death peers down to deliver a response,

“Two beings, swim in limbo, and I’d gladly swallow both,

But by design, only one is required, to fulfill destiny,

Which has brought you to me, pleading for her innocence,

To which I accept, for even death can be bargained upon,

Your journey was true, and not at all a simple task,

Look, for you have proven yourself, despite your crushing doubt.”

Death points at the rising light, as a shadow, alongside

Gradually appears, walking through, to the other side,

The traveler stares, as his travels conclude, and is finally at peace,

Death floats over to him, and softly whispers… we must go.

~V~

Her peach skinned hand, feeling the gentle cool breeze

Brushing by, and up to her shoulder, to perch,

She gazes out, into the swaying crowd of the ocean valley,

A whisper in gratitude, and a tear, for the one who sacrificed.

The Leech

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

Within the finest hair of time, I was discovered,

Although I was never actively trying, to conceal my path,

There was something, searching, for my incoherent scent,

While I, unaware of its stalk, proceeded towards uncertainty,

And because of one simple thought, there was blood in the water,

For I unknowingly, and loudly announced, where I was hiding

From the monster, that was hastily approaching,

And the closer it got, that simple thought, became complex

As it expanded, grew tentacles that wrapped around my brain

To suffocate the brilliance out, and inject a fierce infestation,

Each day, carried with it, another ominous drop that echoed

Once plunged, into the vass sonar, that was so brightly lit,

I presented the light to follow, all because I couldn’t hush, doubt,

And from that, it leeched onto me, and wouldn’t release,

It’s how I became to know this creature, as the leech.

~Living With the Leech~

Art by John Kenn Mortensen

Its constant breath, upon the back of my neck, makes climbing

To my deeply hollow home, so hauntingly daunting,

And even when inside, I still feel, its towering presence

Growing heavier, and colder over me, clutching tighter,

As I shudder in its grip, as it drinks from my weakened state,

I recall, revelling in the absence, of this slithering gloom,

A time that seems, indiscernible, as if that person is a stranger

Living freely in the abounding presence of light,

Now, my world has overturned, a gray and barren devastation,

I cannot see the leech, for it has never materialized,

But I have found drawings, others, that have suffered

From its latching, and its exactly the hovering presence

That has sunken me, into some sort of a paralysis,

Shades drawn, as it thrives, bleeding out my senses

But I feel its vampiric fangs, all throughout me, infused,

Where we have become, one, in this chilling dwelling,

~My Final Moments With the Leech~

Drowning in a sea, of the empty bottle’s breath

And a deep cut to my wrist, emptying out the leech,

Finally, it appears, wide eyes reflecting fright and fury,

Being constricted to me, it won’t survive, without the carrier,

Sometimes, you have to sacrifice yourself to save others

From the demon, hurting them, through you.

Crash Landed

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

Crashed down, onto a planet that does not exist,

A scorching dry terrain, engulfing, the fallen ship,

As the traveler, surviving the destructive landing, emerges,

Into a world not his own, as his eyes tremble, trying to focus,

Searching, for any sign of audible life, while trekking

Through the baren lands, of this unfamiliar expanse,

Where the sky above, even looks different, feels further,

With stars, aligned differently, sends the traveler into a frenzy,

Drowning in his hysteria, which grows in the padded cage

That shrinks, the more he finds himself utterly, stranded,

Lost, with no means of communicating, outside this deathtrap,

He’s frightened of the icy, slinky crawling hand of death

That could be around his throat, within moments,

As the howling winds spear, through the dense hopelessness

With the day fading, behind the unfamiliar horizon,

Just as the night’s crawling shadow, were at his heels,

He discovers shelter, an eerie cave, alone, staring into the black,

Painstakingly, slowly he moves further in, to hide for the night,

Sliding one foot forward, then the trailing one

Until he was fully immersed, the dark unseen,

Hugged himself within a crevice, of the coldly silent cave,

Thinking, he’d finally be able to take breath, without dense hesitation,

But a new fear began, one so crippling, he was even more lost,

While sitting, surrounded by the ferociously enveloping darkness,

A small spot of light, appears, dances along the ill of light,

The reflective shine, bounces off the longing, for light,

He was able to empathize with the light, the way it yearned

And feverishly sought out, for the openness, of the familiar,

Until the traveler drowned, in his own misunderstood, madness.

The Grim

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

I only started to die, when I met you,

Buried myself in the avalanche that I’ve conjured

From the panic, you’ve projected, out of my darkest depths

And into cognizance, which rattled around my haunted corridors,

So I knew, I had to protect myself

From you -a person I was supposed to trust, blindly,

But the realization stayed dormant,

For how long, has stayed in a heavily shrouded mystery,

But I’ve emerged, out, from my walking coma

And into a frenzy, to build walls, that you broke into rubble,

Resurrected instinctively, several times, only to be dismantled,

Leaving me, to defend myself, against a ravenous ambush

In the floating debris, of my shattered bunker,

How can I shield myself, against a friendly enemy,

So devious and cunning, for you knew my thoughts

Even before, they were desperately forged,

You must have engorged yourself in my habits

And now, I find myself battling my own tendencies,

There was no measure, for how much time had vanished,

Just the shock, of the icy cold water, swallowing me hastily,

Where was I, between the swirling consciousness

And the moment, your silken voice, echoed within my canal,

A blank space, that stretches further than any exploration,

Instead of fighting, against the toppling devour,

I tried to drown myself, with you hooked, into my deterioration,

But you helped me swim, as the waves crash against the frailty,

Dragging me against, and towards, an unforeseen end.