Too Many Open Tabs

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

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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

Sound of Fury

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

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

War in Mind

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

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