A Friend Talking You Down

How grim, is tonight’s tale?

As you stand on the ledge, looking down at the world,

How many daggers, have you removed?

And how many, are sunken in, too deep to locate the handle

Yet they flutter and sting, with a single breath,

It’s time to go, leave the same way you came here,

Release your grasp on the aspiration, of finding her,

You hope, you spot her by her scent, drifting to the high roof

So that you won’t be seen, not just by her, but everyone,

But why put yourself through torture again?

Is it worth it, when expecting the crushing blow?

Are you able to withstand, more artillery?

Disappear, let yourself heal, while distractions

Flood over you, as you slowly start to see the distance,

Step back, adore the sunrise, coming over the rooftops,

And wait, for those daggers, to disintegrate.

Advertisements

The Runnaway and Her Guide

Her heart, bears down in her caved in chest, like an anchor,

Too heavy, are her steps that make deep impressions

In the soft snow, leaving her trail as she tries to vanish

From a villainous, overbearing shadow, closely following

As she sluggishly drags herself, wounded by a distraction,

A path, that sat so clouded, she couldn’t see the descent,

Fallen, so far down the rabbit hole, with the weight forcing

Her down further, nothing to ease her into liberation,

The shadow, ingests any inkling of light, trying to squeeze

Through a swell of darkness, only to have her crash

Back into the clinging holds of the shadow’s depression,

She claws at the abyss, escapes and carries her sorrow,

On the run again, she’s found, but by a carrier of light,

An albino raven, hoping to carry her heart, in aid

So that she can fade, past sight of the stalking shadow,

So the raven takes hold, of her weighted torment

As she starts to walk, a little easier, leaving no trace

For the eager and engrossing shadow to plague,

Yet it rolls forward, sniffing for her distinction,

Closing in, the raven urges, for the runaway to hasten

As the raven feels her slipping, back into extinction,

He then spreads his wings, eclipsing the rolling black,

Hoping to cloak her, with her languid fractured heart,

The raven does not abandon her side, as she collapses,

But now, a shallow drop, for she has her loyal guide

To carry her out of the fog, and when she slips again,

He’ll pick her back up, filling in the shadow’s nest,

To one day, sustain the crushing pendulum of her anguish.

Lost Out of Light

Art by Andy Kehoe

I shed myself, shaking in the hull of darkness,

I try not to make a sound, searching for the entrance

That will lead me, to the land of light, where it’s safe,

As for right now, I feel there are a million hungry eyes

Fixated on me, as I trail through the sinking land of shadows,

They know, I don’t belong, walking amongst the dwellers

That hide behind draped curtains, not from terror,

But to track my steps, waiting, for me to loosen

My grip, upon the sheathed dagger, battered and worn

It holds light, etched into it’s edges, a useful deterrent,

But how long will it protect me, as I’m surrounded

While I’m stranded, feeling out the blind emptiness,

The growling gets deeper, closing in on my wandering

Around the dark howls, seeking the distant gateway,

I’m lost, out of the light, mislead by the masquerade

That is parading in the treetops, gaining my full attention,

No matter where I find myself, I’m running parallel

To where I want to be, yet I’m spun in the dreary landscape,

Clutching tighter, onto the dagger, as my pulse narrows

And it gets difficult, to collect my breath, struggling

In the absence of clarity, settling in to the glooming clouds,

Hoping they can’t collar me, to tie me to the abstract,

Holding me just out of reach of light, with its glow

Nearly gracing my toes, a torture set by these dwellers,

They thrive, on the misery of light, and I’ve walked in too deep,

My legs, can barely carry me further, as the dagger slips,

Into the abyss, I stand upon, for anything that lands

Onto the same ground I’m lost on, also goes missing,

I’ve strayed, past the protracted, unsure, if I’ll ever locate

My way back, to the blended doorway, that I’ve traveled

Through on many accounts, but stayed close to the border,

This time though, I took a long tumble, down this hill,

Treacherous and unyielding, darkness, will always break

Those who harness light, upon their fragile chests,

So here I’m stranded, shattering, under the suppressing anchor,

Piece by piece, I’m losing myself, absorbed by isolation,

I wasn’t dragged here, I wasn’t pushed or bullied,

I slipped, crashed and lost direction, and now, I’m a dweller.

Haunted by the Inner Demon

I believed I did, but then the demon inside my head

Reached out, put itself in control, and ropped

Off that person, became an aged faded portrait,

One I admired, absorbed it’s brilliance and vivid emotion,

Then the demon, that stalks in plain open consciousness,

Rattled my head, shifted the entire frame into dust,

I’m trapped, inside my own, in the entangling web

That laps over and over, burying my gated clarity,

The more I struggle, the louder it becomes, deafening

Where I just give in, fold down, within it’s cold grasp

That has eclipsed, the beauty of truth, now lying in mud,

All because, I validated the demon’s spun filth

That slithers through my canal, injecting deceit

Into my malleable mind, I never stood a chance

Against my demon, who has become apart of my persona,

So much so, I can’t distinguish the difference between us,

I might have found my home, but they’ve vanished

Into the furthest lot, while I struggle with the lock,

They’re still there, before me, reaching for the compass,

Following the illusion before them, while I lay buried

In the forgotten sands, pushed further down,

Suffocating the inkling of hope, where is that home

That can calm the storm with her touch, upon the nape

Of my feeble stance, for her scent, softly lingers,

As I look for the silver lining, hoping she’s there, smiling.

The Room Without Design

She was encapsulated in the reverie, engraved

In each subtle stich, belonging to the beauty

Of this forgotten room, at the end of a hollow hall,

She has been here, keeping these walls in an elegance

Which has never been seen before, yet, it exists,

Far beyond the utterance, alone and deprived,

Holds its wallpaper, hugged tight, a full room

Within an overpopulated house, so many visitors

But non, have wandered, down to this room,

A small loose thread, suddenly appears to her,

Far in the high corner, a thick web has grown

Corrupting the room, as tears in the wallpaper

Start to emerge, as she knocks on the walls

Begging for anyone, to notice, to find her deserted,

As the room continues to loose its vibrance, it sheds

All that she designed, the tears getting deeper,

Until she becomes empty, lost in a dirty empty room,

No longer, does the room have a desire to hold,

No longer, does it keep up appearances,

The decor, decays to dust, leaving the barren walls,

The design was perfect, although, she was fragile,

Being shoved, further into away from being seen,

She fell into a drowning existence,

Only to escape from the room, on her own again,

One day, she’ll have another room to design.

Conversation With Death

There, untouched by the setting fire,

Gliding, above the trembling lake was this, overbearing

Shadow, approaching me, sitting under

This sickly tree, in the midst of a rolling fog,

As the shadow came closer, it formed a shape

And then, before me, darkness appeared,

But I was not afraid, I welcomed its bleak emptiness,

Yet an enigmatic stillness grasped hold,

Chained me down to the soil, I followed it’s approach,

Until death, rose over, pleased to be in it’s presence,

Huddling softly to its cloak, eager for the finale,

“Waste away, you’re not yet joining the forever tortured.”

It spoke, but it wasn’t audible, I heard death in my head,

Which felt like a blast of jagged chill,

Eating away my insides, as I stared into the hollowness

Peering through me, why has death emerged,

“Why count the falling leaves, and dismiss

The sunset, which begs for your attention,

Instead you loiter at my door, sinking into a stale image,

You’ve allowed an infestation, in through your picket fence,

Followed by attacks upon your house, fallen

Into this swamp, slowly succumbing to it’s drag.”

“It was the only way to move on, to bury her memory,

I rather not have, loved and lost,

Only to walk lost, pretending it was the better

Side of this world’s spectrum,

I believe that it would have been easier, never exhaling

From taking in her sweet scent,

And shattering every broken piece of bone,

My senses taste her sweet vanilla, that drifts

Into my haunted consciousness. ”

“Those shackles, tightly clasped, are of your own design,

Destroy them, and move in through the brume

Out into the perched orchard, as you crane your eyes

To the sullen shores, as the water kisses the warmth

And sizzles, yet you distance yourself.”

“You judge me, thinking I haven’t lived,

Well I did, with her laugh, echoing in my evacuated mind,

And I rather transpire, than search for her unique likeness.”

“One person isn’t a life, when the world is comprised

Of a slew of differences, which is left behind the blinds

That you seem to be lost behind, scratching

At the grave, you’ve unearthed.”

“You stole her away from my heart, and dragged her down,

So yes, I sat here marinating in this melancholic setting,

Waiting, for you,

To display your weakness.”

Within the moment, my hidden blade,

Tucked into my sleeve, reflected death’s fright,

I slashed at death’s open light, killing the darkness

So that I, can assume the mantle,

If you don’t evolve, then you die.

Come Back

The reality of death, is the stalking feeling

You get, the little hairs stand at attention,

And you freeze inside, vanish into the distance,

But somehow, you’ve come back, you haunt,

A ghost story, perched upon its past, what it misses,

Eager to feel it against its bust, to sync with the heart

That gave you a louder drum, which has failed,

Torn and rusted over, but you persist,

Getting louder, squawking until it all shatters,

Yet no one notices, and you refuse to abandon

Your post, ignoring the flaws that tarnished

Your feathers, streamed down, from your black eyes,

You’ve come back, but your ghost is a withered memory.

One Star at a Time 


The depth that surrounds you can be overwhelming 

to any new voyager, so ease them in by showing

One star at a time and let them discover 

The complex galaxies that have blended together

 To create the vast land that lays before them 

Let the gate open, let down the shield and find 

The courage, sink all doubts to the crushing bottom, 

You don’t need them anymore, 

Float the key above the clouds where stars 

Have aligned for her, sink the disguise kept 

In the back of your mind, 

Float onto the insanity of the galaxies, 

They are what makes is glimmer brilliantly,

Display it all, one star at a time. 

Devil in the Sea

The abandoned sea banks rock the decaying boats

That waver endlessly, against the barren docks,

Once, so alive and populated with thriving catches,

It now resembles a wasteland, long forgotten about,

But has it, just because no foot dares to occupy 

The unattended pier, does is get misplaced

To fend for itself against the punishment of time,

Slowly eroding the town into a whisper, all because 

A mystery beyond the black, the Devil in the sea, 

Its existence, clouded by a myth spread into panic,

A steep decline into oblivion, with no way back,

A horrid stench of rotting death pervading the heavy air, 

The scarred town living under the umbrella

Of this over told fable, to the point where it’s merely

A story told, repeating off different tongues, but

It’s true depth has been diluted, fabricated 

Into a ghost encounter, in which the lone survivor

Still buried in a living grave, wanders the true story

That won’t relinquish its talons from his forgotten mind, 

He has lost recollection of his entire past,

Except his Devil in the sea, which haunts his consciousness, 

It seemed like a distant dream for so long, until decay

Spread over all he knew, and all that was left

Was the glare from the dark empty water, 

On his last day, he started from the dock into the abyss,

Tightened his tie, and fell into the arms of the sea, 

But not before leaving, his telling of what happened, 

The day that had lived in infamy, for a different reason,

“I remember nothing, but the day I came to face

The Devil that roams the sea beside this stink town, 

It’s why I was so attached to the sail, free from the idiots,

I was happy amongst the open serene waters, 

And I knew them well, I navigated every channel, 

Bestowing my knowledge on a young eager sailor,

We would come back with bountiful catches, 

There was nothing better, I’d live in the sea if possible, 

One day, there were talks of an impending storm,

But mere rumbles weren’t going to keep me from my escape, 

I went out with the young lad, despite the warnings, 

In retrospect, I should have never left the dock, 

The winds were forceful, thrusting us off course

Into waters I never sailed, never even seen on any map,

Still within the eye of the storm, we did all that we could

To stay afloat, with gusts of stinging rain beating us,

The boat tipped so far to the side, I lost my grip 

Fell into the choppy ice water, swallowing me whole,

The lad did all he could to lift me out from the devour

Into the unsteady pulsating crumbling boat, 

Slowly vanishing into the storm, blending into chaos,

The thrashing underwater whirlwind tossing me down

Suffocating light, I saw nothing but the end to it all,

As I looked below me, I found a massive shadow 

That appeared as if from the shallow eternal dark, 

This shadow was monstrously big, stretched up towards me

But still, a figure of no distinct character, 

It seemed to have no end, going past the ocean floor

As it nestled me in it’s unlikely arms, to carry me out,

It leaned toward me, and passed me life in a kiss,

The storm settled, as the sun beamed down shining 

Light on an angel, no Devil or monster to fear,

She saved me from the Devil, as I found myself 

Reaching up for my boat, from waters I called home, 

I searched for her, days that melted into night, endlessly, 

So what better way to keep searching, then to die

In the waters that she found me, falling into the story

That has spooked her out of my life, I die to find her,

You’ll only live with a thread, of what you truly desire,

Although you’ll notice it, when it has crashed out

Of existence, pouring out for it, but it’s too late,

It won’t get easier, only more excruciating as you live on,

Searching, for even the slight resemblance, coming up empty.”

Spellbound 

Her lips, sealed by the witch’s thread and needle, 

Locking in what urges to scream from the insanity

Overflowing the cusp of her heart, drowning

In the cryptic silence, overly aware of the ripples

Surrounding her, inching it’s grasp closer, 

She shivers in the lasting echo of a fictitious howl

To doubt the cool wind that wants to carry her through,  

Disturbed by the offing that incarcerates her

In her very own mind, as she scurries to the corner

Hoping it’s tall curvy stature will cloak her,

Keeping paranoia as the pillow where she rests

While hiding from any light that shows its warmth, 

She slowly reaches out, slightly dipping the tip of her nail 

Into embrace, but quickly shrinks back into the collected 

Darkness, feeling comforted by the crawling fog,
Every serpent has found and taken from her garden

Closing her gates eternally, and banishing the luminous,

What can break the spell, that perches upon the cloud? 

What chance is there for the caged voice, to sing again?

Living the rest of her life, fearful of the word Love. 

©DorianPoe2016