The deep

Benjie the salad

If only I could grab this night. Between my cold fingers. And light it up like a cigarette . If I could smoke this night away. If this wild screams searing my mind  are hot enough to ignite it. I Would feel life steaming off my throat. But still freezing  winds of uncertainty sweep off clean  my soiled palms empty. And my voice thins like a spectre, among dark and gloomy skies. Only bright imaginations of the past,but this memories wane with every desperate beat of my weak heart. I know am not like the others,not dead inside, but I know its coming. With the Monster. Since I heard a cry from something like a deep  miles below my broken feet. A cry lacking exactness in the attribute of time,it seemed a languish from the future. A rumble spreads among the scary skies,but the only water filling my head,is the fall of my tears to emptiness. Hollowness of purpose,as below so as above. Sinking heart. Diving below from the bottom of all matter, a new breath fills my lungs. A last breath? Why do I wish for more? It feels like, something I have always desired. Is this a memory too? Warmness.  Is this how it feels to die? A breakthrough, to nothingness. The universal Unconsciousness. 
Apparitions of a lonely night. Wrap daffodils in strings of beauty ,send them  at midnight to my love in tornadoes of desire. Prisoners of ghostland, mask thineself in boxes of lilies of the cold dawn,to ignite my sad darling's heavy heart to lightness. May she cherish times when I was warm in her arms. When time was green with my wishes,before darkness caught up with me,till I could  not want . There she is ,a jewel that adorns the depths among my breasts. A starry vision that lights gloomness beyond my eyes. Dar ...d..a...r...

..she reminisces days when time was green with her wishes. When  it was all warm with her judgments. Before it fell with embers. Before  the  eventual night caught up with him. As she wishes she could grab the blackness, and within her fingers,ignite it,smoke it away, like a cigarette. It turns cold,almost a tangible feeling...she gulps memories,chokes in nothingness...Winds of uncertainty still, the fate of all man...'D..a..r'...

  • Author: NN Benjamin (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 1st, 2021 07:22
  • Comment from author about the poem: It is what it is
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 11
  • User favorite of this poem: rebmasters.


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