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

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Sound of Fury

What is that noise,
A ticking, amplified in my mind,
Far from sight is the source
Of such torture and misery,
It won’t let me rest as it blares it’s echo
Like steel scraping iron, to tell me
It’s grievances against me, in such rage
That I run, fearful of it’s poison,
A scorpion dancing, on open nerves,
Feeding it’s pulsating rock further in,
The sound of it’s legs become rapid
And fierce, like the charge of Vikings,
More and more enter the blitzkrieg
Crushing the ground beneath
Their bloody boots, until,
This feeble mind suffocates under the wave
Of fury, unable to withstand it,
Buried under the fall of its walls,
Within the rubble, is the dormant mind
That could not bear the sound
Shattering the castle, from within.

©DorianPoe2016

From the Mountain into a New World

Captivated, by a neverending sprawl
Upon a thick blanket over our eyes,
Not able to see what blooms beyond
Seclusion, of an uneducated heart
As he climbs, were no ray of day
Kisses the mundane,
Just, an everlasting disguise
To cattle sanity within the outer limits,
Yet he pulls forward to the high peak
And looks down upon his prison,
No remorse for abandonment of his box
That kept him cold and prosaic,
Enveloped in strict quarters, he escaped
To find himself on the brink of freedom,
All he has to do, is cross over
Beyond the mountain’s brow,
Into an unknown,
Into the theory, of latitude,
For the gates out of sanity can be found
Where no one dares to climb.

©DorianPoe 2015

No Escape for the Weary

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He softly whispers out to her
Hearing himself crack the fragile silence,
Built upon fear, of the ever lurking shadow,
Again, he speaks in shade, begging her
To awake, from a tall crippling clutch
Around her frail and aching heart,
While deep into her succumb of derangement,
She is carried further on still
Black wings that holds her over chaos,
At the same time, his whimpers
Wrestle, with the affliction in the river
Of a distanced soul, once there and felt,
Now cold in the memory of her touch,
His hushed murmur, awakens dread
Bursting out from the darkened abyss
To keep her caged, ripping song from flesh
Feeding it to the mute devours, flocked
Above the decent into the vacuum of life,
Watching striking sorrow, eager to taste it,
Stunning my stance, in the faint glimmer,
I’ve crashed, broken my desire
And have been force fed, to the shadow
Then smiles grimly at the cloud in my heart.

©DorianPoe 2015

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.

Insanity’s Gates

How many of us truly have our sanity in tact?
Just another hitch in the road as it all shatters,
And you become, interesting.
What’s the point of laying on the row boat
Searching down the waters,
Recollection of a life tarnished.
What’s the point of crawling in the ground
Carving on the white walls,
Breathing in the fumes of poison.
Approach these gates and knock,
The louder the better
So that the crazies know,
You’re one of us.