Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2018
Splash
What’s that?
Splash
How’s that,
Splash
Possible?
Splash
Plausible?
Splash
Splash
Downpour.
­It rains here,
Yet the sky is clear,
And the ground is dry.
No spots in the sky.
Yet it rains...
It rains.
It rains.
Red
Black
Thick
Red
No...
It’s blood
And I feel
Drained
It’s my blood
Falling from the sky
Coming from a monster
Previously slain
Yet like this ground,
I feel so dry.
Run
I run
I run faster
And faster
He’s behind me
He’s gaining
He’s in front of me
And he says
Smile.
Flash
The ground is gone
I fall down, down, down
And upon my head
Appears a crown
With the inscription
“Little Reprobate”
He flies above me
He says Hi.
Tells me to smile
And I fall
There are shackles on my feet,
Pulling me into the sea.
Shards of silver,
With broken glass,
Litter the sea floor.
Stop.
He swims like a shark
Stop!
He reminds me,
In the cold I’m coming for you.
STOP
I should have known
There’s no peace in the pond
STOP!
The broken glass glues as one
It forms a door,
To another shore,
With a doorbell
DING ****!
DING ****!
DING ****!
I ring frantically
He opens the door and says
Die.
I SAID STOP!
You little fool.
Flash
I’m back,
I’m home
In this prison of innocence known.
Here he has no Red Throne.
For I’ve seen with my own eyes,
Dark places are my reprise.
A reprise showing how many of my previous poems are all connected to tell my story in cohesion. Though disparate, they come together.
Anthony Mayfield
Written by
Anthony Mayfield  25/M/Santa Clara, CA
(25/M/Santa Clara, CA)   
457
   Bryce
Please log in to view and add comments on poems