Peace of Mind

The gate thrusts violently, locked, fighting to break
In the calm winter night, as a feverish chill bites,
I approach, slowly shuffling my steps, barely holding
Myself from trembling, for an ominous glow, spotlights,
Keeping my focus locked tight upon the grumble
Kicking up a fog, putting the world, behind blinds,
A narrow tunnel, that I should be running away from,
Why, nothing is being kept beyond the clanging rattle
But the phantom, craning out from the spreading myth,
A tale I’ve heard countless times, that I now sink
Into the words, whispers crawl up my spine of its legitimacy,
Claiming control over my consciousness, a cold
Grasp inside my chest, turning up the bass drum,
I drop to my knees, hoping it’s enough of an anchor,
I beg for it to end, as the fog comes in closer
And the lock, loses its hold, letting the gate creak,
Piercing my malleable skull, inviting the dread
Right in, as they loop under my arms and drag
Me through the gate and into the asylum,
Then into my padded closet, and finally the choke,
Nothing left inside my head, but the story
That had chased after me, and forever stalks
Me in the shadowed corner, until I let the phantom go.

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Too Many Open Tabs

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Late at night, as I peruse my thoughts
And jump, from idea to Wonderland
Escaping narrowly into another tab,
Finding myself in a distant picture,
Foreign steps, into a calm river
And out into the cold, with no blanket
Except for the falling sky, as I dart
To an already traveled road, reviewing
What I have learned, it is what I have forgotten,
Too many open sources, without any retention,
As I continue to sift my way out of swallow
And into another trap, flying to the bottom,
What was I thinking about?
Where has my mind drifted to?
A year in the sun, lost on an island
With the company of my own insomnia.

©DorianPoe2016

War in Mind

I was entangled in a web, watching
My mind, get torn apart,
Ravaged, by ever famished dwellers
That crawl out from
The stalk of my spine,
Taking advantage, of my weakened state,
All happening, out the cusp of reach, Nothing to do, but succumb to the war
For there is no more retreating,
As my huddled trenches
Are reduced to fire pools that cradles
The slumber of innocence,
My sole whirlpool decline to the gates
As the soldier, in this war against sanity,
But whimpered attempts
Desserts me at the foothill, of rage,
Rage against the entanglement,
Working, to set myself free
In ceaseless battle against
A dooming sentence.

©DorianPoe 2015

Shut In

Fear, stretches out it’s hand
For me, to take,
As I browse my surroundings
Finding myself in my home,
That has blended, into the forgotten,
My still window shudders
In the loneliness chill
That slithers, through the anchors,
Which have latched on to me
As I’m held in this ever lasting perch
Upon sanity’s conditioning,
I revert back into my webbed nest
Away from the long spinney reach,
As the cage echoes, in the rattle
Of being shut in.

Outside the Gate

I stare into vast uncertainty
Swallowing my existence,
Stranded, in the gaze, believing
This distraction is my sanctuary
From the demon, hunting my lucidity,
Slippery slithering tongue, seducing
My resolve, to plunge further
Into the arms, of my other enemy,
Trapped in it’s hypnotic grasp
Thieving, clawing at my mind,
My own fault really, as I wondered
Too far outside my own gates
That I have lost sight, of where I belong,
Marooned between two enemies
Ripping my identity apart,
Leaving behind the stale shell
Further away from the gates,
Further away from benevolence,
To walk aimlessly with my demons.