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Dark Poetry #4
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peace to thier death
| Dark Poetry #4 |
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peace to thier death |
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young_blood Senior Member
since 2003-09-19
Posts 1115Indianapolis, IN 
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peace to thier death i sit in this silent house and hear things of a ghostly pas never shared. this place whispers of lost events person come and gone, years forgotten. in the basement of a silent house i see nothing, but yet everything spectacular. visions dance in front of me to an unplayed tune these sights move quickly from one event to the next. looking up to the rotting support beams above i notice a lipstick red smeared across the splintered wood. the streaks seem to have come from the first floor the florr of endings and beginnings, of sadness and joy. as i carefully climb the creaking staircase i see more of the red that, when dry, looks to be in crayon. arriving at the door to the unknown, a horror fills me this is a dread to surpass all other fears, "what is behind this shield?" of course there is only one way to sastify my curiosity, upon the opening of the door, a scene of a bizarre nature is set. all around are bleeding butterflies, heaven's comfort dashed to the floor they sob and cry, their pain is increasingly too much to bear. i stoop to try and comfort one, but it falls to peices in my hands feelings of failure rise in me, this is falure in all. the only thing left to do is weep with my friends these delicate creatures who had soothes me in my sorrows. strange how their kisses could always calm my state but your lips brushing them sent them to a slow death. they have met agony, the hollower of souls these butterflies will never know peace, never know the hope you stole. i suffer along with my crushed angels for i remember my path through buring hell. i entered a broken and saddened man but returned strong and calloused to you and your life. now you have exacted revenge on those who cared those who understood pain and lent their joy to me. through these friends that became a band of brothers, i survived i was kept alive during a hideous depression in life. one last look around reveals these bleeding hearts their lives are soaking through the floor into the crimson carpet, to the support beams. if i could, i would give them morphine happiness something, anything, to take away their morbid aching. if i could, i would sing sweet songs to send peace songs that relate, yet take them to another place. turning to my left, i see that i must leave now its my turn to take the long walk to another door of mystery. i know what's behind it though: your plans for my destruction once again i remember the suffering of the past and relish it. the future is coming to take me to new lows and deeper depths i anticipate the chance to see you smiling at me - smiling wickedly. now im alone, but not lonely like before |
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| © Copyright 2003 Alex Lewis - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sparticus Member
since 2003-11-15
Posts 245 |
A very surreal piece that could be tighter, but that is only my humble opinion. You write with very good images. Sparticus Even with insects- |
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SharaRose Member Elite
since 2003-07-19
Posts 2501Somewhere out there~ |
I can see from reading this you ask a question I do...why are we allowed to cross paths with ones that only come to hurt, and harm? What is their purpose to our lives if they meant no good thing toward us. It's for sure like I said on another comment box there seems to be some things we will never know the answers to. This was very painful to read. Seems we are kindred in our affliction. Sending a hug, because I know how hurtful this is.  Love, Terri~  |
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mysticpoe Senior Member
since 2003-02-28
Posts 883 |
young_blood, this is really good. Although I felt the write was more prose. If not I apologize. It read very well and I enjoyed it all the way through. "Bleeding Butterflies". I like that. Originally creative. Nice write. poe If nothing is something |
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