Severed ties to the living,
bring me closer to the dead.
The pounding of my anxious heart,
fills my mind with dread.
Luminescent breath of ghosts,
obscures the moon above my head.
Shadows thrust upon the tomb,
where my feet now gently tread.
Fiendish sounds, mid-blackest night,
a sepulcher for my bed.
Will peace now overlook me,
for the life that I have led?
A razor pricked across my wrists,
strange demons now are bled.
Eyes fixed upon cold, marble stone,
life runs out crimson red.
whew...intense emotions behind this one...a hard place to be...but you are not alone for having gone there...and as to the voice...write, it will emerge...smiles.ReplyDelete
So good...how you drag us into that desperate state of mind...although more than a little chilling. "Memento Mori," your blog name, can well describe this poem, too. "This too shall pass." Glad it has, for you.ReplyDelete