The Lost Reflection

I tied myself, to the back of the trigger, 

Wavering on the tip of the needle, trying

My hardest, not to collapse into the missing 

Mirror, the image hiding behind the corner,

Frozen in silence within the red, staring

At what used to encompass a serenity of sight, 

Its brilliance, muffled by an overshadow

Cast by this now open cavern, leading down

Into the further, until what was above, 

Now births into the below, struggling in limits 

Of Sanity before it crumbles, toppling over me,

The pronounced psychosis dominating over 

A hushed breeze from the serene, of a passing

Butterfly, crushed under the weight

Of the tempered hammer, staining the soft lull,

Ravenous rage, blurring and diluting my vision

In front of the overseeing full moon I transform

Beyond the recognizable, and howl back

At the mocking night, who I trust no more,

Words that I can’t take back now, 

I can’t bare to look at my own reflection.

Spectacle 

They take their seats, waiting for the curtain 

To be pulled apart, to display their emptiness, 

Fixated, on the footsteps coming towards them

Occupying every hollow vacancy of the theater 

As the hum of anticipation follows, growing,

Congesting every row, eager for the blind to see

What they’ve packed into for, the spectacle, 

They’ve all heard from others, how marvelous 

Their experience was, a must see sensation,

They crowed over it, to again be the audience, 

In the midst of the slow decline of light, 

Fighting back their excitement, the stage

Starts to bear the standing spectacle, an error 

Of life, forced out into desolation, humiliated 

Night after night, for the brimming playhouse, 

The erect mush of torn rags and dirt smudges

Captivates, as a roar of laughter from the over 

Privileged ones that waste the high tide

Picking apart the staged impoverished fool, 

But who really sits within the puppet box,

Obedient to a hidden beggar, a crook of crooks, 

Toppling the towers from which they gawk 

At the overwhelmed spectacle, deceiving them,

Crippling their cannibalistic nature, lighting

The still spectacle, showing off it’s destitute 

To the roaring crowd, burying themselves in sin

Night after night, making the show a gratification 

That has astounded the upper streets, in turn

Making the poor spectacle, the biggest success. 

Battle Inside

Deep in the seclusion of this forest, lives a boy

And his demon wolf, defending what bonded them

In the inception of light under the lavish canopy

That shields the boy from the harmful spirited,

Until recently, when they have invaded the forest, 

Distorting the peace kept by the spread fable 

Of the haunting by this boy and his demon wolf,

As individual torches, the spirited, illuminates 

The forgotten darkness, cascading forth 

An avalanche of unwanted attention from the outside,

As these innocent looking spirits and their carnivorous

Intentions to breach light in through the eternal eclipse

That has been fought to stay intact by the branches

The boy and his demon wolf sleep under, 

But what spirit stays to itself, that dares not 

Tip the balance to the outside of insanity’s gates, 

So they clash beneath the melting fortress,

Disintegrating stem of suppressed serenity

With every strike upon the boy and his demon wolf, 

More invaders join the thundering collision 

Drying out every river slithering over every conformed 

Foundation stone of this dying hideout, running 

Away deeper into the black forest, enchanted 

By a need to forget, dream and imagine 

That the vivid reality doesn’t exist. 

©DorianPoe2016

Stolen Senses

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Do you dare to turn away from the door,
Slowly creaking, as it opens to show
Its daunting depths, your enemy reaching
To tear your life out and bring it back
Into hollow emptiness, feeding starving vultures,
But you pin yourself, tightly into the corner’s edge
Locking, your tiring gaze upon the oozing dark
Slithering under the bed, and over your head,
Pinching your lips shut, to suffocate any whimper
To not give away your voice,
Squeezing your eyelids until they wrinkle
To not give away your sight,
They hunger for it, feeling for vulnerability
Of the glass, holding in the quicksand,
The rattle of its drag along the room hisses
In your ear, as you realize
You’re left open as it takes your hearing,
Your heart plummets as you open your eyes, blind,
Gasping, but no sound emerges,
You’re left, vacuous,
Stolen senses by those who feed on them.

©DorianPoe2016

The Resident

In the midst of my journey, I’ve contracted
A villainous disease, tearing away at me
While I stare out into a world, I can no longer
Grasp, for it baits me further into emptiness,
Starved from exploration, in seclusion, Withering inside the shell of death
Carving days gone, into my surroundings,
Shut in, as deterioration shows its face to me,
This curse, has bound me to the heavy clock
That struck twelve before I wound the heart,
Memories stolen right from my clutch
By the trickling absolute, crawling
Along the spine of the bruised plane,
Making its web thick over corrosion,
Lifting life, out from every nerve left pulsing,
The window gets tighter, in the span
There are fewer things felt and seen,
A stationary ladscape, one I can not climb
In an exploration of its sights, it’s majesty,
The shadows hush over me, desecrating
My hollow dome, slowing pace while
Spreading this contagion to the surface,
My host, crippled by the shackles
Around him, purging all he has accomplished
To drown into depths never seen,
Atop that mountain, before we broke
Is where we left ourselves, to now mourn
Memories never to be remembered
In the fading, down at the bottom by the dirt,
Ready to be lowered into eternity,
We explored, but can’t recall the Arctic chill,
We felt the crumble of stones beneath our feet
But can’t find the scars it left, with these Wrinkles, crowding the painted canvas,
Laid to rest, the journey ends without effect.

©DorianPoe2016

Thirst for Chaos

This rubble here, used to be a home,
Whispers of what once was, lingers in the ears
Of darkness, where these remains rot,
Memories and dreams, charred beyond thought
And recognition, in a still sleep, smoking
Amidst the forever residents, blended
Into the debris, left in the forgotten,
A sunken ship atop the exploded volcano,
No more life, no more cool breeze
Waking up the house where a family vanished,
Into fragile ash, crushed in the fine breath
Exhaled from their enemy, roosted upon demise
Of what he couldn’t bare to see, the good
Without any overcast, there needed to be chaos,
And in the calming of the after, he struck a match
To the gullet of this well made home
Just to watch it burn and swallow happiness,
All so he could smile watching from Olympus.

©DorianPoe2016

Out From the In

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I found myself, in the dwelling of beasts,
Not beaten, or scared of growling shadows
That hunt, for their next ravaging night,
The devil in them, fills innocent hearts
And turns their light black, taken underground,
And lives with their rapists, myself being one,
I revel in the shedding of their curls
As my friends and I pillage the wasteland
Above the limbo they never wake from,
I shroud myself in the muck, yet before
The incident, I was absent from reality,
Stuck in savagery, and I never flinched away,
I stampeded toward it, greedy for my meal,
Now, I fear my unquenchable hunger
Until I saw her, taken by my fellow demons,
About to tear her flesh, and devour her soul,
Her eyes struck me, encompassed in her shutter,
I pulled them off, saving her from becoming
Our feast, but putting myself, on the plate,
I suggest comfort while we dine, some class,
They agreed and we brought her down below,
Locked her away, until we were ready
But I would never be ready, ever again,
I snuck to her pin, tried to converse with her
As she hid away from me, my beastly exterior,
I hardly understood why, was she aware
Beyond the havoc, that I crushed bones
Within my chomp, and left little scraps,
She feared me and my entire pack,
I couldn’t give her in, she stirred alive
Complexities that had never surfaced before,
I begged her to look at me, to capture
Her glimpse at me that set me free,
She did, and dropping a tear into the dust
Reviving in me, what was lost to the blindfold,
We finally talked, expressed fears and guilt,
As I shed my beast, into man,
I needed to save her from the horror
And disgust that was coming for her,
I was ready to sacrifice myself, for her safety
So that she would tell this story to others,
Warning them of the evil that lurked inside
What was a man, tainted by sinners,
We heard footsteps trickling down, as I hid
Waiting in the shadow, then pounced
On a supposed friend, and had an idea,
A meal would be served tonight, but she
Would not be the honorary delight,
She would flee to the surface, and vanish
From ever being seen by these animals, 
The stage was set, as I brought over
The silver platter to the salivating demons, 
All the while they’re shoveling
What they believed, was innocence in curls,
Was in fact, their fallen turbulent brother,
Suspicions arose, when they noticed
I had not taken a single bite, which caused
Growls and uproars, as my facade faded,
What else to do, but to take as many of them
Down to the fire pits below our cave with me.

©DorianPoe2016

Unrecognizable

As the glass shatteres, at her feet,
The still of the moment
Is clenched between her teeth,
Her eyes, swimming, in the tango of sound
Around her, catching every whispered crash,
Even the hurried flap
From its wing, perched heavily,
Behind light shades, to see what she can,
When she, herself is encapsulated
In a narrow uncertainty,
The grim scene she sees, isn’t registering
Inside her corrupted mind, lost
To the horror in the spotlight
From the knocked over lamp,
A trail of havoc leads to where she’s frozen
At the nightmare she can’t get away from,
Blinking, in reaction to strikes upon
Open flesh, opening deeper in the crimson,
She continues to cling to what stands
Before her, stumbling into her eyes, yet
She begins to wonder,
As her heart drops below the iced surface
When she notices, how far from dream
All that is transpiring, she actually is,
The hand with the thick coating of blood
Keeps lunging down, at an elderly man,
A man she knows, to be her father,
She steps closer, breaking her polar stance,
The hand repeating itself
As the point of the blade is dulling,
No creaking wood as she moves in a bit more
With another fatal stab, to a vanished soul,
Clearing view of who wields death
Changing view, and back into her own self,
It is her, pinning down her father
Feeding him to the devil,
She stops the repetitive knife,
Looks back behind her, and to no avail
She is not disconnected, anymore,
Everything comes flooding back, memories
Of that day, and how she came to this end,
Her father smirking with a bottle in one hand
And a hand full of her hair in the other,
She shivers from the record playing
While he takes away every shed of her,
Too long, she let the slither of his disgust
Enter her domain, her tarnishing cage,
Until she broke free, in a rage
Leaving her feeble, broken self to follow,
Finding herself, unrecognizable.

©DorianPoe2016

The Short Notice

Subtlety, is shrouded in imperfections,
No passion in it’s blips,
Nothing to revel in
But the short gasps of air,
Suffocating from second, to second,
Gaining nothing, losing moments
That slip through the clips,
Everything said and done, even before
You opened your eyes from blinking,
Missed the opportunity,
Missed that part of the day
When all that matters to you, is lined up
So perfectly, to be washed away anyway,
And on such short notice,
We move through it all, to come out
Empty handed to the stage, laughed at
For not being on time and prepared
On such short notice,
You can’t hang on her word that dripped down
A mere second ago,
She’s on a different subject,
Lost in the conversation, not from intruige
But, from analysis,
She walks out on you
During your perplexing state
On such short notice, to be where you can’t,
You shouldn’t live for the moment, for it
Comes and goes before you notice it.

©DorianPoe2016

Hunted Down

You wrestle with the shadow
To stay above you,
Afraid of Loneliness finding passage
In through the crack of light
From the fading eclipse,
Trying to pin down the cast night
Over you, pitching yourself out of view,
Wandering further into your veiling
Thinking your scent vanishes along with you,
But the hunters can’t be easily swayed
As you hear, their heavy breathing,
The lock is broken, letting in your villains,
Shining light from their palm, reflected
In your shaking fear-filled eyes,
Disbelieving that they’ve found you, paralyzed
By the hunters nearing their conquest,
Now a different kind of shadow
Rises above you, as the swarm you hid from
Comes rushing through the open door,
Beating you down, wrestling, with you
To succumb to desolation,
So you brave it the best you can
Until the next eclipse.

©DorianPoe2016