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Literature Text
Death, your schedules are a mess
And your timing nonetheless
You touch people I care
About but one you keep to spare
The one who's in coma for weeks
With pale skin and hollow cheeks.
But still lifeless sleep blocks
Not all the epileptic shocks.
Death, why don't you end this pain?
Even if she wakes again
A fighter she's not
The drugs and pills are all she's got.
While she hovers life goes on
Her husband tries to be strong
To prepare a life
He has to live without his wife
Death, your delay gives me hell
She is merely more than a shell
The muscles decrease
Is it selfish to ask for peace?
And your timing nonetheless
You touch people I care
About but one you keep to spare
The one who's in coma for weeks
With pale skin and hollow cheeks.
But still lifeless sleep blocks
Not all the epileptic shocks.
Death, why don't you end this pain?
Even if she wakes again
A fighter she's not
The drugs and pills are all she's got.
While she hovers life goes on
Her husband tries to be strong
To prepare a life
He has to live without his wife
Death, your delay gives me hell
She is merely more than a shell
The muscles decrease
Is it selfish to ask for peace?
Literature
It Came From The Dark
It Came From The Dark:
Amongst the ashes, swirling from the darkness of the pit,
Emerged a hand, dragging a battered body across the rocks.
Blood leaked from the wounds so callously self-inflicted,
And teeth ground with a focused determination and seething anger.
It cared not for the warm rubies - staining the jagged rocks,
It cared not for the sensation of pain...
All that it remembered was a dream, An obsession -
One that drove it ever higher; ignoring all else!
Eventually it emerged from this shadowy hole, this dreary depth,
And in that moment, it learned of the truth.
For this creature, denied sunlight and warmth -
was me...
Literature
A Dark Artist's Heart
Now take me down to my dark and sombre place
So I can write woeful words such as this
But don’t leave me there to give life to my thoughts
As I’m cursed with such soft and slender wrists
And hands that are capable of mastering
The medicine bottles infant safe lock
No more than three a day the prescription says
I peel off the label and down the lot
Now take me down to my dark and sombre place
Where skies are as black as a raven’s wing
And with no potential to spread them out wide
With my meek, melancholic offerings
Just a pin prick of light in the sable sky
Like the raven’s eye within its feathers
And as it blinks mo
Literature
Wings of Despair
Wings of Despair:
A momentary glance toward the birds in the sky;
Makes me feel like I am soaring; with a hope to fly.
But the chilling winds that wrap me, reflect the cold of this day
And the icy frost that batters me, chips me away...
It drains the very breath from me, as though the ice is locked within
I feel my hope is fading again; like a jar of captured wind...
Where once my will was strong and boundless; now it sits on broken wastes
I must admit this crushing despair, it feels as bad as it tastes....
From the moment that I acquired them, these were ugly tattered wings
They were made from my despair, and bound in bitter string
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I took me a while to write this, simply because it's dealing with personal affairs.
It may seem hard to beg for her to die, but I think it'd be the best. It would end the uncertainty of her condition.
© 2013 - 2024 Diluculi
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