Monday, 29 August 2022

On the wisp of the wind

 


On the wisp of the wind,

I hear your voice,

chilling me to the bone

In every drop of rain,

I hear your gurgled moan.

The rattle of chains.

The thunder outside

and the screams

over and over again.

 

Gone for so long,

but somehow still you are there.

It's like you surround me.

I feel your presence in the air.

Every footstep I take,

I hear a second in reply

and that strangled cry

follows me,

probably will until the day I die.

 

A cold hand of fear holds me there,

in the air I hear the groans and despair.

Trickling down my spine,

I feel fingers frigid and icy,

I see visions of you looking at me

and that look on your face.

Wretched and torn,

lost and forlorn.

The gaping mouth,

screaming for help,

when help is long gone.

I see dead eyes staring into oblivion

only replaying the misery,

reflecting the images that I see.

 

On the wisp of the wind,

on its waves your words sail.

They rise and fall with each tidal exhale,

I feel them trying to drag me under,

like a tentacled beast from below the blue wonder.

I feel the groans start to infiltrate my mind,

I hear the drone of the anger that resides,

I fear that soon I'll be nothing but these tones,

when they have drowned out

all the sounds of my own.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Peace, Love and Poetry 
 
Kyle


 

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