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

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While the Apocalypse Comes

The static came in, as they huddled
Around each other, and for once, the world
Felt hollow, and time had lost its hold on them,
While it all bleeds out, and simultaneously, Everything seemed to turn stone,
Medusa’s stare being this eclipse
The world is entranced by, except
For the two that hid themselves
Inside each others unstable island,
Bracing the edge, as the deafening boom Eviscerates every crumbled rock,
They purge every last drop of themselves
Into what could sleep undisturbed
In the spider’s web, while the wave reaches
Out for them, to swallow their world
Designed to fall with the rest, they hold on
Fighting off what can’t be ignored, just to store
Every freckle she has, especially
When she smiled at him, before it faded,
The static became louder,
The still of them torn apart from its keep,
The eclipse enveloped every breath,
Every beetle that made marks here,
All that lasted was the wasteland, void
Of any bloom, but the drop dripped
From the web, soaking the dry earth.

Taming the Beast

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She graces his cheek, with her frightened hand
As his subtle scuff of breath, envelopes her
While she dives into his chest, searching
For his battle drum at ease, trekking
His wielding arm, up to his inflamed chest,
Finding, along the way, scared lashes
From withstanding speared pitchforks
And shattered shards of glass, broken upon
His thick snakeskin that she breaks through,
And lull the Beast’s tenacious rage,
Her hand, presses gently on his stone gate,
A petal, decending down onto broken ground

Filling the cracks from its silk and perfume,
The Beast submerged with his beauty,
Her serenity from her smile and touch melts The stone, and gives way to her influence,
She tamed the Beast, and found his heart,
But sleeping demons, never stays unseen
As a crashing fire, bursts in through silence,
Tidal wave of fear under an uproar breaking down
And into a private and secure ground
That had just been set to rest upon a mantle,
The Beast wakes, but fears his own claws,
He sets his beauty in safety’s tall tower
And runs into the ingesting battlefield,
In the madness of the attack, the demons
Are lost to the beast and unearth his beauty,
They vanish back to their domain, celebrating
How they eradicated their foe
By removing the serenity that he lived for,
For without his beauty, there was no taming the Beast.

©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

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

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

Before I Go

Carry me to the edge, high above
The deep, unsteady grave,
As I peer down into my own Stretch
To find my everlasting, my mark,
Dust, from Below blisters my concentration,
Pulling me closer, before my contentment,
Thrashing winds around me, pushing
You back into the Flock, as I reach
Not to hold on to fleeting breaths,
But the touch of your life,
So that it keeps me company, in the Abyss,
I’m not afraid to vanish,
I’m not afraid of the unsure,
I just rather have a looping thought of you
As I’m taken, into the Depth.

©DorianPoe2016

What Once Was

Torn paper, left in the shadow of ruin,
No matter the words stained there
A fire, breathes out from the lost rage,
It doesn’t belong here, what was once
A place of ease and passion,
Yet the fire rummages within this place,
Breaking what once was,
Gaining speed and strength in its swift
Movement through the deserted light,
It swallows everything, leaving it all in ash
Unrecognizable remnants of memories
Out of mind, buried in the flame,
What was once a home, is now
A cemetery, with no one to mourn
For the passing, the vanished life of all
Who laughed within these walls, cried
And shook in the comforts of loving arms,
Step out, beyond the chaos of what once was
And see the world, matches the home in ash.

©DorianPoe2016

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

Fairytale Have No Fear

In a solitary confinement, the colossal
Dismal creature stalks the scorched plank,
Lining up it’s prey upon its platter,
Paralyzed, to the plate she whimpers
Fighting against the dread of his bite,
Immersed in the pulsating moments
Of when the ivory blade
Would strike upon her, while the beast
Salivates In her blood, swallowing, by the pint,

Where art thou, dear hero?
What fairytale have you gone into
And forgotten this fair maiden?

While the silent fire ignites in reflection,
All senses, return from the abyss,
The hero rises, from the hollow black
To find the sand is wasting,
His sight, beckons for her,
As he finds the beast, swiping
His tongue across his lips,
With the maiden, in it’s grasp,
Our hero lunges, with his burning blade
Slicing through the solemn echoes
Of the beasting growl,
And strikes!

The hero rose, dismantled within
To fight against what all feared.

©DorianPoe 2016