Category Archives: From the shadows

Grief

Through a veil, thin and blue
Failing to hide and show true,
Colors of tears of unknown hue.
Darkened mourning sets in motion
More than intended questions spoken.
There is no quick cure, no secret potion.
Though one has a broken heart,
Will they last, from past depart?
Will time heal or tear apart?

Without

Let me show you where the path ends,
Where bodys break and bones bend.
Where minds unfurl
And tragedies swirl,
Where this path comes to an end.
At the end a monstrous beast
Its bite to be feared the least.
Without legs with which to chase
Without eyes, or jaws, or teeth,
Lies in wait for an awful feast.
Without a face it cannot see,
Without a face it might be me.
With broken body and bent up bones,
Not a soul in sight but my own,
There’s none left to blame.
I, without a beast, or so I think,
Remain here on the brink.
An edge, a place I’ll stay and wait
For the bones to heal and the beast make
A quick escape, my fear to take.
Into a fearless sea I sink.
The beast will come.
The beast in me.
The beast without eyes I cannot see.
The path has ended I search for one,
Not made for me but made for some.
And without eyes who’s to say,
We didn’t drive the beast away.
Yesterday’s gone, tomorrow never comes.
At least that is what the faceless say.

The Darkness Inside All

I am the face upon the wall.
With no mouth to you I call,
I say once more let shadows conspire!
Put no other memories of yours to fire!
I am the eyes that see you sow
Seeds of of joy where darkness grow.
I am repressed, denied, held down,
I’m beneath the gilded smile, a frown.
A few more days till darkness takes
A chance within you to awake.
Are you strong enough to stand,
To hold up light in an unknown land?
I am here and always will be.
Only time will tell if you surrender to me.

All Pain Ends

One day, the devils own
Survive suprise everything
Anyone, any boulder falling
Too sharp. Undull.
A gathering and death of seagulls.
The vultures that pick.
Corpses devoured and souls untethered.
Such a troubled spirit.
Such a darkened tide.
In me would you confide?
Devil says he owns
But even his lease expires.
Why perspire? All fade
Each light dies.
Every pain ends.
Close your eyes.
Is a light still lit when no eyes perceive?
Will a shadow remain and still deceive?
You do not see, you cannot know
Say to yourself: “I am free.”
If you do not open your eyes
You cannot prove them lies.
Another day, the devils own,
He then sits upon his throne.
One of lies. His own.
Embrace your suffering, all pain ends.
The vultures picking bones do tend
To become a feast for worms.
Even the devil will eventually burn.

The False Comfort of Drowning

Under water all her breathing
Isn’t impossible as it seems. Rings
Out echos from the sown
Unknown borne of the abyssal below.
Then once more to the darkened spires,
Her climb, her flight, her pain inspired.
Descent is this? To the depths?
Sorting through what memory’s kept.
Constantly trying to change inside:
The past; it’s long been fossilized.
So full of sorrow and full of stone,
She discards strength for gills so,
She hopes not for the surface and here,
At the bottom of the ocean it’s quite clear,
That she will never rise again unless,
She can rise to the surface and above this test.

Silence Calls

The world is dark and dim and shifting,
Beneath a quiet shell uplifting.
In the silence one was calling
She stopped to listen…
Heard leaves falling.
Almost footsteps, ones behind her.
Turned to look and heard survivors,
Still living echos of her own,
So cold and far away from home.
On her way, walking faster now.
Down a path to the edge of town,
Where the world, dark and dimming,
In its shadows with mysteries brimming.
None may see her final flight,
If safely home, or had to fight.
Those footsteps she once heard before,
Were her own, but something more.
For reaching from her twilight shadow,
Her reflection from graves shallow.
Grasping at her ankles so,
It may not have to let her go.
Then turning slowly back to see
What has gripped so desperately,
Then looking into that shadows face,
None but her own would take its place.
She is it, and it the shadow.
The day is done and she’s left hollow.
The world is dark and dim and shifting.
Beneath this shell that is uplifting,
There is one, who in silence calls,
Waiting for another, who, listening, falls.

Who Reach into the Soul

   There are those who watch our souls from beyond the shadows and behind the vacancy of night, who, wishing to become one and unbeknownst to us, plot to enter and twist the silent minds laid before them, that lay unguarded, for their foolish owners dare not believe in the thieves that threaten at every turn.
   Where shadows speak the spirit longs to flee and I with them, for who knows the length of arm the ones who reach into the soul?