9th hour of the night,
Still not tucked in tight,
The bags sagging from carrying
The weight of my head.
A pale, luminescent light, lingers
Only as long as my fingers
Swipe to their hearts delight.
With one lung, the world is perfect,
With myself as the sole anomalous.
With another, death and destruction reign as prefects,
Delighted with the drug of the outrageous.
All air accessing the heart are
Defiled, deprecating, demons;
Causing ourselves to seem stuck down with tar,
Forever apart from the Lord’s pinion.
Strapped down in my chair in despair,
The electric pulse at my tips,
I search for one last thrill or some care,
Before closing forever these lids.
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Author:
Spencer Wilhelm (
Offline) - Published: June 12th, 2025 01:08
- Comment from author about the poem: Always happy to hear your thoughts on how to improve as I pursue Truth, Goodness, and Beauty through poetry!
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Soman Ragavan, Cheeky Missy
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Comments2
The title says suffocation but the ending seems electrocution and either way it seems a death sentence. Quite powerful and dramatic it feels final. Nicely said.
A touch of darkness but powerful write that gave me the feeling of the long road to death, finally being executed, interesting write, enjoyed the read
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