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.
Puzzle Pieces
He wakes,
Empty of recollection, when so much
Has transpired in moments, erased,
Frantically, he tries
To steady his bearing
While everything whirlwinds
Through his brittle mind,
Shocking the stems, of uncertainty,
He stumbles, smacks and knocks
Over a weak, wooden table
Spilling, what it cradles,
A dirty blade, scraping
Across the forsaken hollow hole,
Crashing, into splintered glass,
He quavers over, and collapses
In arms reach of the blade,
But he doesn’t grab it,
Instead, he stares at himself
Studying the stranger
In the rusted reflection,
Still trying to put together the pieces
Of the shattered puzzle,
When he discovers a stain, dragged
From where he lays
Across to the wide door,
He slowly pulls himself, slithering
Along the stretched path,
Lies a rigidly sharp, broken nail, one
After another one, along the dry trail
As the puzzle starts crumbling together,
Finding fragments of devastation
Beneath the wielding hand
That struck against, what resides here
In the barren shadow,
He creaks over, onto his back
With sight hazily focused on the rafters,
And what dangles from it,
A soft chime, which only now
Can he hear it’s call to him,
Watching it clink against it’s own noose,
Tremors, becoming violent
In the bleeding clarity of his gaze,
When he sees the convergence
Sparked, from the pendant above,
Bringing together, all at once
The entire vacant puzzle,
*********
The man walks in, crushing a picture
Between his dirty fingers,
A hard man, cold and heavy,
Barging in where the boy resides,
Unsheathes his dagger, blinding
Sight in the reflection of darkness,
The man demands the pendant
To be put back into his possession,
Screaming that is all get has of her,
The two have fought for the last
Piece, of her,
Lost, to when she bore the boy,
He blames the boy
For ripping her away,
As the boy refuses to relinquish
Possession of the pendant,
The man drives the blade
Through the pendant, into his son,
He jerks the blade out, sending
The pendant into the rafters,
The boy, still alive, gasping for him
As he drags the body towards
With the boy, clawing at the floor,
The father opens the door
Beneath him,
Feeding his son, to the flame.
*****************
The puzzle is put back,
Only to be ripped apart
And scattered into the lost, again.
Quicksand
Dust, in the desert of a stained home
Crowding the vacuum of the void,
Vultures swooping towards his heart
As he shivers, from the gust
Of curdling sorrow
Carried, on the black wings,
Singed from the fires of perdition,
The door, frozen in the world’s collapse,
Nothing to see here, they all abandoned
The suffering immersed in spider’s chaos,
He sinks, further into the black of the sand
That swallows him, in shattered pieces
With no intention, of reaching out
For that outstretched palm,
The lights burnt out,
Long ago.
Within the Dying
The reign of my fire is becoming
Silent in my solitary vigil,
Fighting against a forgotten remembrance
That is unavailing,
Frightened in the delicate flame
Drowning against it’s feeble light,
I am no longer amongst
The rage, in the pit
Just rising smoke,
To the vanishing,
I have raged through many years
But now, the dying light
Consumes me,
There is no choice in the wolf
Extinguishing my uproar,
This is no fabled mind,
Only, a paralyzed struggle
Against an inevitable occurrence,
I don’t see my reflection
A rapidly fading blaze,
I’m submitting to abyss
In my candelabra
Surrounded, by none,
I’ve rampaged for as long as I could
To not lenient against
The swallow of the light,
No more, can I lift shield
Against it’s overbearing sword,
Take me to the night.
Giving Up a Friend
Here I sit, lost in the life of others,
Watching as they pass by, glancing
At me and my friend
Resting, on my lap,
Soaking in my smell
Panting, unsure of what’s to come,
Unaware that I, can’t bear
It’s stench
Bark
Or wag of it’s tail,
It has become my enemy
Stalking me at every corner,
I’m afraid of it’s sharp
Tapping sound, echoing
In my hollow torment
After emptying the Raven closet
Of all that reminds me of her,
Except, for the full vacant eyes
That follow me,
This friend, is an illusion
Of consonance,
And here I cradle this beast
When a stranger stops,
Awes at the timid creature
Then asks to cradle her,
Like all the many others, I ask
If they would rescue me from
The last of my memory,
Finally, this stranger agreed,
I relinquished my lingering past,
I walked away, empty
Of what mocked my detriment.
Life Goes On
Do you agree?
Does it go on when the terror inside
Takes over?
When you bleed into the glass
Already brimming?
Stuck, in the glacier, crushing you
From the inside,
Does it go on?
Sure it does, only how much
Of the avalanche can you bear?
The Bat Shrieks
She presses around soaked pain
Within hollow hours of this
A stained distressed moon,
She avoids the piercing glowing stare
From that scornful bat, residing
On the sharp edges of her world,
It shrieks, quaking her heart
As she caves further into herself,
But how long, can she evade it’s glare
That scratches at her dungeon door,
The perpetual filth of it’s torment
Barges in, crushing
The already fleeting light,
Hanging on to a fading ledge
As the bat shrieks, echoing
Off closing walls,
Of the eclipsed cavern,
The bat rips her strength, shaking
Her existence in the eternal dark,
The bat shrieks, forevermore,
Reaching out for her
In the imbalance,
Where she wrestles with the affliction
Never able to rise above,
But how can she, when the shrieks
Throw cold steel
Through her ailing beats
Spilling under the floor boards,
Cursed to be in the shadow of it’s wing,
She holds onto the past, one moment
That has held her,
Intact within the echo
Of the shattering shriek,
She grips the lost clock
Against her abducted soul,
Hiding, within the silent thump,
Yet she plummets into the red waters
That perches above her,
Latched, in the hold of it’s scowl
Hypnotized by its crowding villainy,
She has spiraled into the bat’s crimson
Not knowing the way out,
Frantically chasing after its shriek,
Being sucked into the vortex,
Forgetting the moment behind her
Only seeing, the monster
That hunts her.
Lost
I’ve gone too deep,
Into the crushing blind,
Lost, myself along a forgetful trail
Leaving nothing behind, no crumbs
To follow back, no desire
Pleading with me to stay,
The ashes cover what I long to forget,
I drown further into the crowded canopy
That filters out the sun,
A sight recluse as I look up
Back at where I fell from,
But I’ve perched within this forest
Too long, decomposing,
Shedding it all,
New feathers grow in
Not to fly with, but to hide under,
Submerging, with the darkness
Becoming a demon, in it’s hold.,
Island Hold
He stands glaring out into the bleak
Stripped of the illusion,
Clouds thunder in, as he bellows
Listening to the callback, of his echo,
Countless scratches upon his calendar
With fading hope that he
Would be uncovered
In a parade of sun,
Yet, he sinks into the cold swamp
With his eyes stitched to the horizon,
The eclipsed moon dropping
The devil’s wing around him,
Snugged fit,
Stolen by this island
Lured by promises of paradise,
Hollow in its dominance
He wants to escape the clanked grave,
Now, that he has stumbled
Into the shallow pool of the siren,
Betrayed by his shadow
Following it’s lead into the permanent
All by a fool stench pervading
The steel chest,
He is weak, only falling to worse
The disease consuming him whole,
Habituated to the island’s clutch,
Too late to run out of the sand
When he’s below the surface
That has engulfed his heart,
Charmed by the illusion
The island claims him,
Swimming out to fish another fool.
Rest in peace
How do you deal with your monster?
Do you cling to the Jekyll moment
Praying for the hulk of your emotion
To subside in the tepid sun,
The monster, drags it’s fingernails
Along your fragile glass, scraping
A design of madness
To the answer rattling, in your hand,
A potion syntaxed in the nothingness
Of insomnia, the dying light
Lost of rage,
Rest in peace.
the_dorian_poe's Blog 