Staring,
Those deep pools
of an endless darkness
From which light enters
but never leaves,
caged behind bars of black
set in walls of flesh
Faded and tanned,
worn at the corners,
Memories of lost times
happy moments
forgotten by age.
Those pools reflect a well know silhouette
back to me.
A figure
Slender,
Slim,
Anorexic.
Days pass and still those pools taunt me.
I see that figure clearer,
Scarred,
Lines crossing
striped from limb to limb.
My eyes lose focus
as I can't bare look longer.
Hours in silence
Before I hear the figure stir,
as My eyes snap back on instinct
and I see the figure stare back at me.
Hiding now behind locks of burned amber
and ash.
Long,
overpowered,
Waves of fibre.
The Figure stares,
Looks away,
Reaching out.
Hands of porcelain,
chipped,
cracked,
frail.
Slender arms reach out further,
seeming to breach the pool.
I look away,
scared,
Fearing the figure.
It's pressencea nightmare
as words fill my head.
Crystal drops form
rolling over burning hills,
ravaged with shaking torture
And cries of torment.
I see the figure beyond the pools,
The pools having faded
Return back into the crystal drops.
A figure flashes across my mind,
Smiling,
happy.
I start to cry
and slam a fist into the mirror,
The pool of anguish shatters
as drops of red fall and roll down the cracks.
I sob further in silence
before breaking the silence,
Standing up
ripping the chains free,
"I miss being happy"
YOU ARE READING
The Humbled Word
PoesieThis will be a collection of my poetms and my entries into poetry related stuff. There will be explanations to my ideas at times as well and as to why I use certain lines if asked about. I will share my mind with YOU and lead you stray in there. Do...
