Thursday, May 23, 2013


Caught in a turbulent storm,
A requiem unending,
Dreams are far from taking form,
O Torment, forever lending.

Bludgeoned, scarred, devastated,
I recognize none, faces of all,
An inexorable nightmare, animated,
Alive, where is that wakeup call?

The eyelids have sealed shut,
Remorseless is this vivid dream.
I flay and fail, to snap back out,
My face contorted an inaudible scream.

A gaunt face stares back at me.
Not one I recognize, no,
I stand before a looking glass.
Not me, not that, a ghost, t’was before?

The face that stares back at me,
A life, punishment and forlorn,
The eyes lifeless yet un-approving,
Wilted, furrowed skin it adorns.

Each taken a part of me,
Part of my still living mind,
No recollection of faces I know,
Strangers, none, any of the kind.

Lament, o  my peace less soul,
Murkier does my heart get still,
Each passing soul I meet yet seeks,
More darkness, more melancholy to fill.

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