THE DEPTHS OF DESPAIR

 

 

Anguish is my sole friend.

Tentacles wrap me close

with its wiry arms of despair.

The day holds no easement for my pain.

The sun shines too bright from its tall pedestal.

The night brings forth the proud moon

that rides the sky with its chariot of horses.

Its glow lights the hearts of the forgotten.

Its reflection soothes the troubled soul.

One more minute before I join the others.

The ones who search for the white reflection

in the cold depths below.

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BLOOD

1 Nights come alive

I’m surrounded by blood,
Blood on the walls
And flowing through my veins.

Blood is thicker than water
And much more intense
As it trickles and oozes as it pleases.

It flows through family members
Like a disease that can’t be stopped,
Bringing with it torment and anguish.

I can’t escape the
Fingers crawling down the walls
And circling around me.

My only recourse is escape
From the walls caving in
As I tunnel my way out.

I want to be free from the evil
Destroying me from within,
Free from the despair and agony.

THE DEAD GAME

Kindle

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THE SNOW IS BLACK

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A town where the snow is black,
bringing coldness and fear.
Old remnants of tears held back,
and times too hard to bear.
Woven from black sheets of rain,
fear covers in disarray.
Anguished and frozen with pain,
dark petals fall in dismay.
Hell has come to Oasis,
The Dead and gone at its side.
Now hidden behind faces
that are well-known far and wide.
Who will fall prey to The Dead?
I hope it is not me.
I’m hiding under my bed.
I’m afraid as I can be.
THE DEAD GAME
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IN THE DARK

ALONE IN THE DARK

“I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of  pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years.”

The anguish my mother had faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.

The last part of her life
was spent in a nursing home,
suffering from dementia.
Life can be cruel.
Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

 

OUR GAMES HAVE JUST BEGUN — THE DEAD GAME —

OUR GAMES HAVE JUST BEGUN — THE DEAD GAME — 

I’m surrounded by blood,
Blood on the walls
And flowing through my veins.

Blood is thicker than water
And much more intense
As it trickles and oozes as it pleases.

It flows through family members
Like a disease that can’t be stopped,
Bringing with it torment and anguish.

I can’t escape them,
Fingers crawling down the walls
And circling around me.

My only recourse is escape
From the walls caving in
As I tunnel my way out.

I want to be free from the evil
Destroying me from within.
Free from the despair and agony. 

Our games have just begun.

THE DEAD GAME

ALONE IN THE DARK

ALONE IN THE DARK

“I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of  pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years.”

The anguish my mother had faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.
Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.