Pleading with the Demon

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.

The Leech

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.

Haunted by the Inner Demon

I believed I did, but then the demon inside my head

Reached out, put itself in control, and ropped

Off that person, became an aged faded portrait,

One I admired, absorbed it’s brilliance and vivid emotion,

Then the demon, that stalks in plain open consciousness,

Rattled my head, shifted the entire frame into dust,

I’m trapped, inside my own, in the entangling web

That laps over and over, burying my gated clarity,

The more I struggle, the louder it becomes, deafening

Where I just give in, fold down, within it’s cold grasp

That has eclipsed, the beauty of truth, now lying in mud,

All because, I validated the demon’s spun filth

That slithers through my canal, injecting deceit

Into my malleable mind, I never stood a chance

Against my demon, who has become apart of my persona,

So much so, I can’t distinguish the difference between us,

I might have found my home, but they’ve vanished

Into the furthest lot, while I struggle with the lock,

They’re still there, before me, reaching for the compass,

Following the illusion before them, while I lay buried

In the forgotten sands, pushed further down,

Suffocating the inkling of hope, where is that home

That can calm the storm with her touch, upon the nape

Of my feeble stance, for her scent, softly lingers,

As I look for the silver lining, hoping she’s there, smiling.

Mirror, Mirror

I’m consumed by the wreckage
In it’s reflection, tarnished,
From my rooted hold, over many laps
Of lives around me, I live with
Knowledge, to which I stare far into,
Dried on years and cracks, overrun
As I glaze back into the handheld void,
Imprisoned in my own grasp, holding on
To what looks back, showing the disgust
Of what I am now, from what I’ve done,
Cursed in the nightmare that stalls
My death, my escape from this skin,
I’ve corrupted the dirty,
Spun the weak webbed bridge
For it only to collapse, in the sway
From my sigh, repeating in vivid picture
Where I sit, holding my damnation,
Dry desert plains blanket my face,
Cracks, swallowing the men, who’s
Legs, I’ve broken into staying,
Now dread my sweet siren song,
For my past is projected
By the mirror, clasped firmly by me,
It has become my enemy, Demon
Crested, and worn
In my tormented hypnosis.

image

©DorianPoe 2015

Beyond the Surface

Her fear resides in arms
Silencing her vibrancy in the cold
Still wind that burns through her,
An eclipsed hell she drowns in,
When he leaves her, chained
To the floor of their bed,
Buried, in his possession, he holds
Her in the snap of his finger,
A marionette sitting blankly on his lap,
She lives in absence, running away
Only in her hollowed mind, with no light
At the end of a boundless gorge.

A curious cat pries in, through
Shackled gates of the domain where
Torment, houses its victim,
Drawn in by her cavernous cries
Displayed, in elegant frames along
The walls of this eternal chasm, 
The cat nears the clasped horror
That bends the bones of the bellowing
Louder, stiffening, the cat’s cautious Approach as the shadows crash
Against the cat’s terrified expression,
Feeling the impact of clash to flesh
Reverberate through its chilled soul,
It’s heavy breath, fogging up
The colliding torrent engulfing the cat
Who finds the abused,
And the devil, within her
Carving into her, branding her as he
Rips out the light from under her grasp,
This horror, seen by the frightened cat
Scared white, and found elusive
In it’s own noose, as the crucified one
Still lies back, letting the demon
Have his way with her.

©DorianPoe 2015