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Literature Text
It starts ever so slightly.
It’s a gentle nudge,
or soft suggestion.
“Come to me, accept my embrace” it seems to say.
It’s velvet caress soothing your angst away.
The comfort is so warm,
an invitation like nothing else.
You no longer hesitate!
“Take me, bring me to your peace” you mutter.
Closer you delve with your heart a flutter.
It swirls into your mind and vision,
it clears all worry and misery,
closer you move.
“Nothing will harm you here” it whispers.
Ecstasy racks your spine with shivers.
You can’t turn around,
trapped in fear and panic,
hypnotized by its’ power.
“You’re with me now, nothing else matters” it soothes.
You sweat, you sputter, you can’t move.
It’s all gone now,
There’s nothing left to fear,
There’s nothing left.
“You’re safe now, there’s no fear anymore” it chuckles.
“You’re with me forever, as are your troubles”.
It’s a gentle nudge,
or soft suggestion.
“Come to me, accept my embrace” it seems to say.
It’s velvet caress soothing your angst away.
The comfort is so warm,
an invitation like nothing else.
You no longer hesitate!
“Take me, bring me to your peace” you mutter.
Closer you delve with your heart a flutter.
It swirls into your mind and vision,
it clears all worry and misery,
closer you move.
“Nothing will harm you here” it whispers.
Ecstasy racks your spine with shivers.
You can’t turn around,
trapped in fear and panic,
hypnotized by its’ power.
“You’re with me now, nothing else matters” it soothes.
You sweat, you sputter, you can’t move.
It’s all gone now,
There’s nothing left to fear,
There’s nothing left.
“You’re safe now, there’s no fear anymore” it chuckles.
“You’re with me forever, as are your troubles”.
Literature
Death Mirror
How carefully we must breech that gentle subject
and aborne understanding on the things we fear.
Else we drown in our own darkness,
like a human voice attempting to call over the hoof beats,
asking a herd of buffalo to stop their stampede.
Death will always be a subject worth calling out to,
but some of us will fill it with things we believe
instead of the things we see.
The way a culture views death reflects a society's morals,
and the same fashion;
the way we tell ghost stories at a campfire
reveals
Literature
Aching in Echoes
Aching
in
echoes
Echoing
of an
ache
Lying
in the
ache
Aching
for a
lie
Dying
from the
echoes
The echoing
won’t
die
Literature
The Flood
when they finally returned
the house had split along the
outer corners
water had burrowed
under the floorboards
knocking them up and into criss-cross patterns
under their feet
floated furniture had
punctured the walls and
he thought the whole abode had ran itself apart
as if to flee
from a crime
a muddy line
sat neatly across the windows bottom half
so they could both see where the flood had peaked
that night
she couldn’t go to the child’s room
instead she sat upon an old potato box in the place
they use to call the living room
– already numb from
the doxepin
she needed that morning
just to make it back
he walked
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*I encourage you to read the poem before continuing into this description. I'd like your initial thoughts regarding it without any bias on what is written below.
This was actually a spur of the moment piece that was inspired by what a Black Hole is. I took it out of the literal context of a void of dense gravity in space that sucks everything into it and put a more vague and loose-ended explanation around it. More than anything I'd like to think it vibrates with the tones of addiction and the dangerous and consuming path that it is. But I'd like to know what you think:
1)What was calling to you?
2)Where were you going?
3)Should I make my stanzas longer or are they a good length?
4)How was the intro and outro stanzas? Did I give it a good start and finish or should I work on it?
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Stay Afflicted my Friends.
This was actually a spur of the moment piece that was inspired by what a Black Hole is. I took it out of the literal context of a void of dense gravity in space that sucks everything into it and put a more vague and loose-ended explanation around it. More than anything I'd like to think it vibrates with the tones of addiction and the dangerous and consuming path that it is. But I'd like to know what you think:
1)What was calling to you?
2)Where were you going?
3)Should I make my stanzas longer or are they a good length?
4)How was the intro and outro stanzas? Did I give it a good start and finish or should I work on it?
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Stay Afflicted my Friends.
© 2017 - 2024 Afflicted-Writer
Comments5
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That last stanza truly resonated with me, I felt each line enticing me into the next. I actually shivered.