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abraham-elizondoPoems
On an old windowsill of a crooked windowpane in a beaten house Lies a window-moth on a ***** window cloth. drained, defeated, and done Time and again, It tattered its wings and shattered its face, plunged at the glass, losing its grace. She's drawn to a dim light spilled through a cracked window into the darkness of the room. Like a waking terror of the night, With one half there and the other out of sight. Hallucinating a pathway through fantasy   Seeking clarity in rays of insanity Contained by a glass and wooden frame. painfully numb, with an urge to move forward A consuming obsession, to make it to the Moon. That lambent orb in the skies A brilliant ball full of lies Ignorant to the impenetrable mass, or the number of miles between the moon and glass. No matter how much it desires, No matter how much it tires, Nor thee amount of blood she taranpires, The glass is unbreakable, the goal unattainable, The truth unbearable. The Godforsaken feeling, of seeing, and believing, yet never achieving.
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 6:46 PM UTC
Hypnagogic Moth
On an old windowsill of a crooked windowpane in a beaten house Lies a window-moth on a ***** window cloth. drained, defeated, and done Time and again, It tattered its wings and shattered its face, plunged at the glass, losing its grace. She's drawn to a dim light spilled through a cracked window into the darkness of the room. Like a waking terror of the night, With one half there and the other out of sight. Hallucinating a pathway through fantasy   Seeking clarity in rays of insanity Contained by a glass and wooden frame. painfully numb, with an urge to move forward A consuming obsession, to make it to the Moon. That lambent orb in the skies A brilliant ball full of lies Ignorant to the impenetrable mass, or the number of miles between the moon and glass. No matter how much it desires, No matter how much it tires, Nor thee amount of blood she taranpires, The glass is unbreakable, the goal unattainable, The truth unbearable. The Godforsaken feeling, of seeing, and believing, yet never achieving.
inspired by night terrors, where one is conscious in sleep and can do almost nothing to get away. Reminds me of a moth chasing a light, unaware of the glass window keeping it there
#moth#night#terror#nightmare#window#trapped#unaware#dream#fantasy#reality
abraham-elizondo
Written by
abraham-elizondo
36/M
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 6:46 PM UTC
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