Before I Go

Carry me to the edge, high above
The deep, unsteady grave,
As I peer down into my own Stretch
To find my everlasting, my mark,
Dust, from Below blisters my concentration,
Pulling me closer, before my contentment,
Thrashing winds around me, pushing
You back into the Flock, as I reach
Not to hold on to fleeting breaths,
But the touch of your life,
So that it keeps me company, in the Abyss,
I’m not afraid to vanish,
I’m not afraid of the unsure,
I just rather have a looping thought of you
As I’m taken, into the Depth.

©DorianPoe2016

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Finale

The curtain is kept drawn, with Darkness
Peeking through slits, stealing Glimpses of the estranged, riding
The swaying chair, carved by suicide thoughts.

Beats upon the chest,
Thumping echo of the final drip
Caught still, while clenched eyes
Fear to open.

Panic in the cold morning,
When death becomes lucid
And less haunting, instead
Of uncertainty, you’re captured
In the spill into the everlasting moment
When we find ourselves lost.

©DorianPoe 2015

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.

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©DorianPoe 2015