We fight our constant battle,
as i drift into disturbed fit full
dreams that mock my
memories and fears.
Coughing in the sick,
grey dawn and the horror,
ah, the horror of knowing
i'm one day closer to death.
The dream inside the dream,
and mysteries whispered in
the still morning hours,
when the sky is blackest.
When the ancient ghosts
taunt my soul, remember!
Sullen, soggy clouds echo
my swollen, wandering mind,
and the stench of fear,
washing over my thoughts.
Wave after wave of
the same old weird trip.
Knowing there's no home,
nothing to go back to.
Too many doorways know
the memory of my shadow.
Each one of them keeps a
little piece of me .
When i've turned my back,
gone, gone away, away.
Misery, old bones where
my marrow used to be,
he leeches my strength,
and i start to lose,
all i thought i had won.
So i toss and turn in
the stinging awareness
that it was all a lie, a lie.
No remorse, no relenting.
Turn too many corners,
and soon you are lost.
This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Posts
I like this one . . . and I love the painting of Jacob's dream. This is one of my favorites: Landscape with the Dream of Jacob, by Michael Willman, 1691. (I even used it in my January 12th blog post at HEART OF A READY WRITER.)
ReplyDeleteBlessings,
Linda
SIMPLY SNICKERS – weekly poetry prompts
Absolutely beautiful. I hope you don't mind me following this blog, by the way; your content is really fascinating.
ReplyDeleteThanks for all the posting, and for all the articles!
-Fresh Writing
hollynoel001
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This is really an interesting write. My favorite parts are: "and the stench of fear washing over my thoughts..." and "....Too many doorways know the memory of my shadow..."
ReplyDeleteThis is really awesome writing. Thank you for sharing.
Hi Dave, I like this one the best so far... thanks. Just a thought about each day being closer to death. One day while working I almost fell from a high place. As each day went by after that. I was farther from death than that day. The thought makes me think that I watch to much Lost.
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