Vanished Into the Fog

The heavy shade suffocates the morning
As I wonder out, from my lavish cradle,
Having only the finest cloth, grace
My pampered skin,
Consumed, in my possessions,
As I blur out the rest of the world,
From my glass house,
Original paintings kept in a closed room
Just to brag, of my ownership,
I surround myself with these marvels
And made famous by them,
I have it all, yet nothing still,
Only I sat unaware, until a crash
Upon the vacant canvas perched above, Sending down a reckoning in it’s storm,
And when all had cleared, my glass house
Stood high, and intact of my possessions,
Then came a slight tapping
Of tiny stones, scratching my home,
A lost boy, amongst the wreckage,
I come out in a stampeding rage
As another stone, leaves his hand
Shattering a pane of my possession,
When I turn back, to release my fury,
There’s no boy, vanished into the fog,
Sweeping, echoes the destruction
Laid upon by a nuisance,
Until he reappears, lightly tapping
On my fragile door,
I slowly march over, with red burning
In my eyes, yet the boy waits,
He doesn’t speak, no apology for chaos
But a piece of parchment, handed to me,

“No stone has less value than the idols
You carry in your heart, weighing you down. ”

When I finish reading, the boy is gone,
Vanished into the nothingness
From which, he came,
Later that night, another storm
Beckons beyond the range,
Flashing, lighting up the entire canvas,
This storm, brews more fierce than any
My possessions can withstand,
I begin to pack, wrap and move my gems
To a safer hold, but it’s too much,
The bellowing wind brings warning
With the storm, right behind it,
Smashing against my home,
Shattering more than what the stone did,
Waves of monumental hight, pounds
Against the inside walls, tearing apart
My woven cloths and sheets,
Lighting from Olympus blasts through
The shields of the dark closest,
Burning the scenes, I forgot about,
All the while, I’m here
Watching from striking distance, 
Who was that snotty little boy
That stole my life away,
It was him, that brought forth Poseidon’s
Cruel and unusual punishment,
For all I did was live within a museum
Of fortune, inside a glass house
For all to see,
Until all, is but a common phrase
Shouted out,
But I threw no stone, rock or boulder,
I kept sacred, all that made me
An island of buried treasure,
Only to have it lost to the sea,
Now, there is only me,
I once had a life, blink,
And you would have missed it,
It was filled with outrageous fortune
But, that all vanishes, I squandered
Away my years, idolizing materials,
Things that would not hold me,
Things that would not make me feel,
Things that would never stop me
From vanishing, long before I realized.

©DorianPoe 2016

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Words

Her lips tremble before she speaks
As if death, was imminent,
As soon as a word, exhaled
From beyond her gullet,
She’d be lost to the echoing darkness,
Her tongue eclipsed, by emotion
Caged, kept in the pulsating fist,
Gripping tighter, suffocating thought,
Until, that moment, blends
Into an endless cold, engulfing ocean,
But they’re just words,
Held high above the heart,
We create in our diluted mind
These patterned vibrations
That crush and obliterate us,
Because we allow it.

©DorianPoe 2015

Into the Forgotten

Settling into the darkest corner of his mind
I feel shrouded in it’s pressure rising over me,
Lost in the rape of certainty, I wonder
Deeper into an illustration of a time,
Utopian in my sight,
Empty upon touch, but struck me
Like the vipered apple,
A delicious burst, before it’s rupture,
One last breath, and I’ve sunk
To the bottom, forgotten.

©DorianPoe 2015

In the Distance of Time

A constant chill, rushes through
These bodies, deserted channels
Haunted, by a love, buried from sight,
Their whispers are forgotten pieces
Of a rich history, bled out,
Dried up, in the destruction of the wasteland,
No sun to warm the two, wrapped
In each other, their blanket arms
Lost in the bitter bite,
Still, a smile under dust
Outlines the fading ledge of the earth,
Distant from life, but firm grasp
Kept, throughout the decay around them,
Even when blown away, they grow back
For they are rooted, in love.

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©DorianPoe 2015

Quote -Pablo Neruda

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How much he has said
To his love, can’t amount
To what has betrayed his heart,
Those words, never able to
Capture, what stirs in the fire,
Daunting, are those beautiful
Silent moments when nothing is said
When in fact, everything
Is gushing out from all edges
Of emotion, when they drift in each other.

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.

A Key to a Heart

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The gears have stifled,
Clouds stalking in a chill
That grows, in violent winds,
She plunges into the pillow
Swimming deeper, hoping
To suffocate constant devastation
Of the blind mistakes,
The key to her heart, shared by
Many paralyzing owners,
Villains, of the castle nestling her heart
Play with the daggers they aim,
Careless with the key, as they
Drudge her oceanic pool
Where she fears to dip a toe,
She eludes the shackles of those
Who purposely, trample her heart
As the stars crowd the moon,
Falling to the beaten path,
She gets locked away
While her heart, isn’t as heavily guarded,
For it can’t take another lash
Upon its weakened gears,
One more, and the entire castle
Would tear itself down,
So, she escapes into her own
And buries all emotion,
All hope,
To stay alone in the shadows,
Keeping her heart beside
And the key, not even she
Knows it’s hiding spot.

Let it be

Let our hearts plunge to the depths
Of the unforeseen corner,
Do not place that harness net
Above the whaling waters
With waves swallowing and crashing
Upon the sharp stones,
Let our hearts free fall asleep
Until the never ending,
Encapsulated in stone now
Until warmth of the sun
Can pierce the black of the ocean,
Let it lay at the belly of the best
Listening to the entrancing sound
Of crushing wings, as we fall,
Let it be, let it be,
I hear no words of wisdom,
I shall fight.