The wanton breath
Upon midnights call
Loneliness
Envelopes the halls
The pining moon
Three quarter sight
The clocks hands tremble
Upon a vibrant night.
Each shadow cast
Has eyes within
A deeper veil
Paper thin
Between two worlds
Each footsep climbs
The creaking stairs
Time unwinds.
Solemn with
A troubled chime
The aging clock
Spins its rhyme
Words devour
Chew and grind
The moments of
This haunting time.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: September 28th, 2026 03:43
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 63
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments7
I love the cadence of this poem as it unwinds its meter and rhyme through what is a spiral stairway of words. Stairways of images built step by step line by line leads us up to a haunted tower. Nicely done my friend
thanks and appreciation as always friend
You are most welcome my friend
It seems to always be nights when lonely shadows, memory, and passage of time brew a haunting atmosphere that causes reality and imagination seem to merge.
thanks for read my friend, always much appreciated
Always welcome dear friend 🙏🏻🕊️
Norman, damn...this feels like the kind of night where you hear one creak upstairs and immediately decide you do not need to know why. 😂 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
thanking you as always much appreciated
Good write N. The time we've wasted at this bus stop is shocking.....lol.
I call it the haunting time lol
Dear Norman, this is really beautiful as much as its sad because I feel the palpable loneliness it's written with such craft. 🌹
Most kind, as always your read much appreciated, thanking you my friend
good write
thanks, much appreciated
Haunting and relatable. Beautiful work 🙏🏼
thanking you much appreciated friend
Most welcome 🙏🏼
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