As Simple as a Rose

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She moves through grey mounds
Of gusting clouds, pushing
Through doubt and confusion,
Sipping on the drizzles of faded light,
She balances herself, strolling through
An uneven, cracked dry path,
Nothing but a wasteland
That stretches, over the boundless,
Dusky raggedy dress
Reflective, of her world
Seen seamlessly through her eyes,
Along her path, she finds color
Growing out, from the dead soil,
A cluster of roses rises
From the nothing of the deprived,
She bows down, to sink
In the sight of this spurting fairy tale,
She threads one of the roses
And it melts the prosaic,
Streaming away from her,
Now, with a spark in her eye
And the rose in her hair.

****

He waters the same spot
Everyday, at the exact time
He lost everything,
Before that moment, the world
Had a different bounce,
The sky, expansive and wondrous,
Before that moment, he never knew
A splinter of pain,
But within that moment
He was flooded,
In a crash of light upon
What is now, the eternal dessert,
He waters the spot
She was taken away,
He grows for her,
He continues to change back
What was ripped away from him.

Nightmare II

A sudden clasp around my heart
Making it a struggle, to dig deeper
Where she lays,
A whisper of smoke
Creeps beside me,
Drawing the heavy shade
Upon the peephole of the shaking door,
Stalking the lurking of a buried secret
Residing, in the casket
Along with her,
I keep going, focused
On the pit I’ve dug myself into,
And as I go deeper
I can feel the sand crushing
Upon my back,
Forcing me into the earth,
Choking on every breath
With a tightening wrench,
Pleading, with the never ending mine
To bare the tomb to me,
For I feel the fire of the underworld
Incubating in the crawlspace
As I strike, upon the eternal domicile,
Bruising fists trying to break in
I open to stare onto my cold pose,
Secret revealed
I am no longer living,
With the persistent chime
Pursuing my consciousness.

Toll for the Ferryman

I’m banished to the unspoken,
Where fevered nights last beyond
It’s toll, paid by a dark smile,
Dragging the chains belonging to those
Fused to the brittle walls
That sharpen their daggers,
Only to dig out their own hearts,
I’m at the dock of a screaming river
Where lost bleeds onto it, carrying it
On it’s paddled tide,
From out the fog of despair
Comes the stalking boat,
I dig through my pockets, empty
Still digging,
Hoping to carve the toll I need,
Non left upon cold eyes,
As it nears the huddled dock
The boat thuds against it,
Shaking my insides,
From out the nothingness of the cloak
That rows the floating carrier
A hand of rotting bones
Spilling maggots from its reach,
Pulls for me,
Waiting for my part of the barter,
The cloak senses my silent beggary
Without even facing my way,
An open palm slowly molds
Into an outstretched pointing finger, but
Not at me,
To a black cavern
That might as well be part of the wall,
It’s oblivion in this afterlife,
I collapse to my knees
Tugging on the heavy drapery
That pays me no attention,
Still pointing
Towards the engulfed wind,
The ferryman enraged, lifts his oar
Bringing it down upon the ground
Where I’m kneeling,
Giving it a violent quacke,
Then reverts back to pointing
At my eternal chasm,
I rather the immortal inferno, but
No penance for the ferryman
Brings about, an interminable wait.

A Key to a Heart

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The gears have stifled,
Clouds stalking in a chill
That grows, in violent winds,
She plunges into the pillow
Swimming deeper, hoping
To suffocate constant devastation
Of the blind mistakes,
The key to her heart, shared by
Many paralyzing owners,
Villains, of the castle nestling her heart
Play with the daggers they aim,
Careless with the key, as they
Drudge her oceanic pool
Where she fears to dip a toe,
She eludes the shackles of those
Who purposely, trample her heart
As the stars crowd the moon,
Falling to the beaten path,
She gets locked away
While her heart, isn’t as heavily guarded,
For it can’t take another lash
Upon its weakened gears,
One more, and the entire castle
Would tear itself down,
So, she escapes into her own
And buries all emotion,
All hope,
To stay alone in the shadows,
Keeping her heart beside
And the key, not even she
Knows it’s hiding spot.

Quote it: Edgar Allen Poe

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You can spill blood of a tongue,
Onto the simple page
Blankly reaching for a pair of eyes,
Vacant of color and luster,
You can betray the fleeting sea
By sinking the shallow ship,
Shine light, upon the hidden corner
That has been lost in the murk
And no ship will sink,
No page will be left alone.

Future

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How transparent is the road ahead?
How many hands claw at you
As you mud though the prickling road?
Do you find yourself being pulled back
To the place where you’ve been burnt?
Have you been stranded here long,
Looking at the blind compass
Battling the barking low
Of what you left behind,
What do you see, on the plateau
In the still yonder?
Or are you taking steps in the preceding?

Long Way Down

It starts to crack,
Heavy feet upon
The fainting window pane
That he, weighs himself upon,
Forced and enclosed,
Looking for Houdini’s key
As the twisted arm
Of the counting man
Does not hesitate to tick,
Each crack bellows louder
As he frantically searches, for the exit,
The clocking hand racing
Towards the finale,
Eager to see him fall into the pit,
Where he will be swallowed whole
By the beast that stalks the end,
How can he free himself
From this entanglement?
How does he mold back
The glass that has suffered?
Feverish cracks continue,
Shattering the glass he perched on,
The click of the killer clock
Is gratified.

Think, write, create

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You live within the storming forest
Where the leaves, hide
Characters, the taller, and older
The trees get,
Still wild and colorful
Inside the shrinking woodland,
They get harder to see,
As the shrouding thickens,
The tightening fist
Holding the fragile cluster of trees
Excreting out creativity,
Forcing it to walk the plank
Into the lost.

The Nurtured Monster

Stab upon the weak,
Motionless in dirt
As their blood slithers
Around the anthill,
Following the path of the killer
Staining the trail of breadcrumbs,
Charming the blood snake
Into the grave,
He smiles at the grizzly sight
Finding his lullaby,
He has satisfied his lust for death
Between meals of the glutton,
As the parasites eat away
At the fragment of sanity,
Making his craving insatiable,
It claws at his chest
Ripping him from the inside
Until,
He feeds the monster living inside him,
Losing chunks of himself
Sacrificing it down to his fevered seed,
Sprouting throughout him,
Taking control
Never letting go of the wheel,
Fully immersed in the lunacy
Of the poison he ingested,
Jekyll, no more,
He lives in the metamorphoses
That he subjected himself to,
Death is his love,
Death is his drug,
Death, is his beginning,
And it needs to be his end,
A sliver of what was
Climbs its way out of shrouded villainy
To stab weak
Inside.