Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Friends, I’m doing my best to keep up with comments. 😅 I’m still current on my own poems and first replies on others’ work, but this season has been a bit of a twister. Figured I’d drop a quick note so you don’t think I’ve vanished or gone flaky.
Read. Write. Rise. Realize. 🤘💀🖤
Friends, I’m doing my best to keep up with comments. 😅 I’m still current on my own poems and first replies on others’ work, but this season has been a bit of a twister. Figured I’d drop a quick note so you don’t think I’ve vanished or gone flaky.
Read. Write. Rise. Realize. 🤘💀🖤
The endless spectator,
An eternally tortured soul
Sitting, dreaming, as in a slumber,
Waiting for the ancient summer rain.
He used to be there
Dancing down metal strings,
Experiencing the sacred rush
Of screaming metallic reverberation.
Countless ages of uselessness
Separate the man from his past.
It was a past so dream-like
That its reality seems doubtful.
Trapped inside a blindly chosen life,
Eternally forced toward self-reflection,
The pain of the endless inquisition
Strikes the man down with desperation.
Drowning in a sea of despair,
Watching millions of excuses float by,
He picks one hopelessly,
Only to discard it after a moment.
He picks another, then another,
Each time just as hopeless,
Discarding them all
While sinking deeper down.
The man in his delusion,
Is stuck in the moment of loss,
Grasping for air with no luck;
The moment is forever lost.
Helplessness, the state of fear
Takes control, it owns him.
Sweat now profusely pours out.
Yet nothing, absolutely nothing, changes.
"Death makes fools of us all,"
The man thinks while praying.
No answer is given, the silence is still;
Death is true and truth is all.
"So die," The man says out loud,
"Die with passionate pain."
He welcomes death with an anxious smile,
Hoping to fade into utter nothingness.
To cease to be is the culmination of life.
It's the cessation of the curse that
Incubates in the womb and is born
Into a world that feeds on failure.
"Let me die," the man cries out,
"Let this cursed life end."
The plea falls on deaf ears
As the torture is meant to be infinite.
An eternally tortured soul
Sitting, dreaming, as in a slumber,
Waiting for the ancient summer rain.
He used to be there
Dancing down metal strings,
Experiencing the sacred rush
Of screaming metallic reverberation.
Countless ages of uselessness
Separate the man from his past.
It was a past so dream-like
That its reality seems doubtful.
Trapped inside a blindly chosen life,
Eternally forced toward self-reflection,
The pain of the endless inquisition
Strikes the man down with desperation.
Drowning in a sea of despair,
Watching millions of excuses float by,
He picks one hopelessly,
Only to discard it after a moment.
He picks another, then another,
Each time just as hopeless,
Discarding them all
While sinking deeper down.
The man in his delusion,
Is stuck in the moment of loss,
Grasping for air with no luck;
The moment is forever lost.
Helplessness, the state of fear
Takes control, it owns him.
Sweat now profusely pours out.
Yet nothing, absolutely nothing, changes.
"Death makes fools of us all,"
The man thinks while praying.
No answer is given, the silence is still;
Death is true and truth is all.
"So die," The man says out loud,
"Die with passionate pain."
He welcomes death with an anxious smile,
Hoping to fade into utter nothingness.
To cease to be is the culmination of life.
It's the cessation of the curse that
Incubates in the womb and is born
Into a world that feeds on failure.
"Let me die," the man cries out,
"Let this cursed life end."
The plea falls on deaf ears
As the torture is meant to be infinite.
© 2011 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved. Originally published on DarkPoetry.com on an account that is no longer active.
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: December 9th, 2024 08:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments7
Good write T.
Thank you, Orchi! 🙏❤️
I can connect with this on so many levels Tristan, as always i find your poetry a very interesting read, Thank you
Thank you Tobani! I am glad it resonated and I always value your time and feedback, my friend! 🙏❤️
You are very welcome
A deep issue with thoughts to mull over. My favorite lines were
To cease to be is the culmination of life.
It's the cessation of the curse that
Incubates in the womb and is born
Into a world that feeds on failure.
Thought provoking and challenging
Thank you Soren. So glad it resonated and I thank you for sharing g your favorite lines and thoughts. Much appreciated my friend. 🙏❤️
It still has its dark sparkle!
Why thank you, my friend! 🖤 Much appreciated! 🙏
Most welcome! 👍🏻
👏👏 Clapping!
A deep,dark and delving write!! 🤔
Love that last stanza
it was really dynamite!! 🧨 👍
Thanks for sharing my friend!!
Best regards ✌️ Thad
Thank you Thad! I truly appreciate your visit by and your feedback! Glad it resonated, my friend! 🖤🙏
Dear Tristan this is certainly dark and has a deeply sad tone, beautifully done, the emotion is palpable. 🌹
Thank you dear Teddy. Indeed it is. Thank you for visiting and for your read and fave! So very much appreciated! 🖤🥰🙏
"Countless ages of uselessness" can truly separate any man from his past. So sad that "The plea falls on deaf ears
As the torture is meant to be infinite", this is what hell would be like. Very Nice.
Indeed. That is what hell would look like. 💯 Thank you, Dan, for stopping by and for your feedback! Always much aporeciated! 🖤🙏
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