A Fly on the Wall

Riddles infest my burdened, insomniatic mind
Watching, the fly upon my wall, how bored
It must be, peering down at a dented bed,
Then wondering, why not find a more appealing scene,
Am I that entertaining, swimming in misery
Of the mocking tick coming from my bedside clock,
There goes another hour, debating the shit eater,
And just like previous night’s, I’m consumed
By the deep labyrinths that I, trapped myself in,
Until, there came a knock upon my door,
Not the front, but my chamber door,
Despite its haunting peculiarality, I opened it
Finding only an empty hallway, dark and cold,
Silence echoes through, this eerie vacant hall
With my heavy breath fogging my surroundings,
Chilled whispers reach out for me from behind,
I back in, to my chamber seeking for what has crept
Through my gates, and into my unrest,
I feel my entire body, tense up from a horrid chill
Pulsing me up against the far wall,
And then, it appeared to me, in the mist of my breath,
My floating demon, keeping me from dreamscape,
Jumped, into my chaos within, amplifying it,
Until I imploded, forever asleep.

What is normal to the fly,
Is chaos for the spider.

©DorianPoe 2015

Nightmare III

Three loud distinct knocks
Upon my door,
Muffled steps, as I approach
Walking, a skewed mile,
One step, too close, as the knocks
Start deafening the silence,
Surrounding me in it’s panic
Along with my own
As the door, starts to crack
Bowing to the beast, beyond the portal,
Open wide now, as it enters
Striding, tapping it’s dirty claws
Towards me, backing me
Into a dungeoned corner
Searching for a door, to keep
The beast at bay, from consumption
Of my heart, which belongs to her.

Nightmare II

A sudden clasp around my heart
Making it a struggle, to dig deeper
Where she lays,
A whisper of smoke
Creeps beside me,
Drawing the heavy shade
Upon the peephole of the shaking door,
Stalking the lurking of a buried secret
Residing, in the casket
Along with her,
I keep going, focused
On the pit I’ve dug myself into,
And as I go deeper
I can feel the sand crushing
Upon my back,
Forcing me into the earth,
Choking on every breath
With a tightening wrench,
Pleading, with the never ending mine
To bare the tomb to me,
For I feel the fire of the underworld
Incubating in the crawlspace
As I strike, upon the eternal domicile,
Bruising fists trying to break in
I open to stare onto my cold pose,
Secret revealed
I am no longer living,
With the persistent chime
Pursuing my consciousness.