In the fuzzy hour of sleep, reality sifts
in rifts of soft smokey drifts.
Sweet slumber shifts to the chill of acid tears.
The wonder of lace and mirrors, becomes a placid sackcloth of fears.
A blunder does erase white down clouds to dark shadows.
In thunder a clown's snickering face lauds love, beckoning stark decay of the gallows.
In dreams shallows, I sold my essence, receiving the prey of nightmares.
An echo screams in a hole where, adolescence lost my soul, deceiving white hairs.
I'm a dog in a fight against Cerberus' rage in the betting pit.
Released in a fog, from the cage, a loss, in a murderous double cross, that dries spit.
I've been bit, ears torn. Too late! Rabid, howls and growls fill the air.
As I sit, in scorn, at hell's gate, foaming jowls, gnashing teeth bare.
Crowds swear, cheer, bet, jeer, sweat, stare, there's a fist fight and drunken brawl.
But in this lair no one dares, shed a tear or care, nothing makes this right at all.
Hair and flesh tear, I've got no time for thought in my plight.
Put on the spot, although I fought, I shrink from the bite.
Blood's terror runs hot, like a dog caught, by his throat in a fight.
Here you can't take a dive, only one leaves the pit alive, a grip on my neck so tight.
Don't let em out of your sight, despite a broken leg, don't beg, no matter the fright.
Might I, from this blood sport, find my way free?
You're right, I retort, this depends entirely upon me.
-
Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline) - Published: October 13th, 2023 18:54
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
- User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.
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Comments3
Good one
Thanks for the read it is appreciated
Man mistreating animals again. The dogs surely only do it because they are trained to do it.
Thanks Orchi so true. But our mistreatment does not extend to only animals but to our fellow man. We tend to be a cruel race, few others use violence as a sport. Thanks for the review and comment.
Brilliant!
'I'm a dog in a fight against Cerberus' rage in the betting pit.
Released in a fog, from the cage, a loss, in a murderous double cross, that dries spit.
I've been bit, ears torn. Too late! Rabid, howls and growls fill the air.
As I sit, in scorn, at hell's gate, foaming jowls, gnashing teeth bare.'
we don't need to wait till we're at
hell's gates
to wage war with Cerberus's heads
they visit us, in our daily chaos
taking bites at a time, we knew this
when reading Dante's words:
''Abandon all hope ye who enter here'
thus it's too late, to try and fight
once through those inferno gates
no, cherished friend
let's gnarl and bark and bite
our ill-fate's, one at a time
whilst we still can...!
Thank you dear friend. I so appreciate your introjections of knowledge of the classics in your comments. Your deep understanding adds such encouragement to this humble piece. I hate animal cruelty that dog fights epitomize but human cruelty is equally abhorrent to me, and I see it all around me, from the slightest digs that people give to the atrocities of war.
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