Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
From where I lie,
The darkness
Looks alive
In the space
Between branches,
And for a moment
I feel a brief respite
From loneliness
As a swarm of eyes
Lock with mine
I flip through
The written chapters
Of my life
And as I make my way
Through still blank pages
I catch a glimpse
Of the end
Moriturism- (n.) the jolt of awareness that you will die
There is a rabbit
In the thicket
He watches
Death pass
From a distance
With scarlet eyes
Set in porcelain
Easily cracked
Ancient, languid pines
Paint a clouded night
Onto a dark canvas,
Muddled skies
Brought to life
Using shades of gray,
And silver moonlight
The field behind you has overgrown
A wild and formidable sight,
As all the seeds that have been sown
Now reach out to feel the light
You'll want to wander through it all,
Watching tree tops sway and dance,
While the sun begins to fall
And your mind is in a trance
Grasses laden with diamond dew drops,
Vivid petals and vines of green,
Lead you further through a copse
Into a place that seems serene
When the light is gone don't linger there
The time spent lost will bring despair
The sun is sinking like a ship
Into an ocean blue abyss,
While the moon emerges slowly
Bringing sweet, nocturnal bliss

When the last rays grip horizons edge
Reds and purples will scar the skies
And the moon can only live
When the sunlight finally dies
I drift away again,
A wisp of smoke
From between pursed lips,
Coiling through cold fingers
No longer my own
Before disappearing
Into the quiet night
This is a short poem about dissociation.
Next page