King Suspire | Poetry Vibe
King Suspire
This poet practices good karma and posts comments 17800
contest winner

Site Rank

GENERAL

  4 star general
Total poems   117
Lifetime Views   17129
Total poems - 7 days   0
Total poems - 30 days   0
Total poems - 90 days   0
Total poems - 365 days   0
you need to login or register to leave a comment

A Long Wandering

CATEGORY

just different

Views: 149

   The darkness is smothering, the stress is raining heavy.

A constant pitter pattering on the roof of my thoughts.

   Sinking into the sunken place for the lost.

Where the outcasts and down trodden walk.

   Strolloing through fields of dried growth and wilted

carnations of glum.

   Backdropped by jagged hills with smoldering craters, 

releasing the suffocating stench of sulfur.

   All for which the lungs may burn.

By day, dreary skies are warmed by a blackened sun.

   As upside-down birds fly backwards, one by one.

By night, pitch black skies illuminating blood from the

crimson moon.

   While dogs meow loudly as they flee the pursuing barking

cats with growling intentions.

   Through portholes, only to return to point of origins.

As I exhaust from a perpetual journey, passing the same

sign in multitude.

   Down a direct road patterned with petrified cactuses,

and legless crows.

   Sips of vinegar from the canteen, for a cotton mouths 

thirst that continuosly grows.

   From afar I can see a group of shadowy figures.

Slowly I approach, as they stand encircling a coffin.

   As I near, these apparitions file out into two lines, turning

their attention.

   They were towering in comparison.

Amorphic, with the appearance of a hooded head with no face.

   With two dime sized flames, about where eyes would

be placed.

   Suddenly overshadowed by darkness, I could smell

death in the air.

   Unheralded, they release a great shrieking sound and 

lunge, attackingly.

   No recourse other than to run, towards the coffin as they

reached and grabbed nefariously.

   Tearing clothing, and flesh, forced to run the gauntlet.

Stumbling to the ground, I turn to face the impending doom.

   But they break up into a swarm of flies and disperse into 

multiple directions.

   Tattered and worn, I rise to my feet, standing in front of

the wooden box.

   With shriveled and weakened hands, I open it to see 

me inside.

   Laying peacefully, with no worries of distrust or

betrayal of lies.

   Sleeping the sleep thats never been slept before in life.

Peering at my face with a gaze, muddled over what appears

to be a smile.

   As I wonder, if this is the only path to elation?

You must be registered to leave a comment. Registration is FREE.

Register

COMMENTS

Contest Winner  

2b2b2 says:

Expertly Crafted....like your writes......Thanks for sharing! ONE

login below

Forgot your username?