Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I only closed my eyes for a second The death forest surrounds me. Ghostly white trees mocking me in their silence Woven bleached bones of all the fallen bound together, glowing under a pale full moon Empty eye sockets peering at me as I weave in and out of their grasp Inside the mist, stumbling without guidance There’s an old man, sitting in one of the trees laughing at the insanity but oddly distressed, smiling at me. Cackling with glee but weeping as he reaches out to touch my hair and sweep it behind one ear. It’s comforting in it’s creepiness He’s whispering to me in a smoke scratched voice ***Comfort is as comfort does Redemption is not at the foot of a hill Catch a tiger by the tail and it’s your blood that will spill*** All I can hear is booming laughter that shake the leaves of the bone dead trees and as I watch them fall to the ground and turn to ash I realize the old man never even opened his mouth Then it’s all gone I’m back to sitting in front of a stone cold hearth ripping pages from the book of my mind and watching my Memories feed the fire as I poke it with a red hot piece of steel It was all the fodder for the fire I could find Sipping from the crystal goblet filled to the brim with Lies mixed with Deceit with a slice of lemon and a dash of Arsenic just for a kick The fire casts prisms of light bouncing from the crystal onto bare walls to show a slow waltz of torture that bleeds down the bricks in sinking desperation A rainbow of colors from a ***** oil slick
0
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
shiver
I only closed my eyes for a second The death forest surrounds me. Ghostly white trees mocking me in their silence Woven bleached bones of all the fallen bound together, glowing under a pale full moon Empty eye sockets peering at me as I weave in and out of their grasp Inside the mist, stumbling without guidance There’s an old man, sitting in one of the trees laughing at the insanity but oddly distressed, smiling at me. Cackling with glee but weeping as he reaches out to touch my hair and sweep it behind one ear. It’s comforting in it’s creepiness He’s whispering to me in a smoke scratched voice ***Comfort is as comfort does Redemption is not at the foot of a hill Catch a tiger by the tail and it’s your blood that will spill*** All I can hear is booming laughter that shake the leaves of the bone dead trees and as I watch them fall to the ground and turn to ash I realize the old man never even opened his mouth Then it’s all gone I’m back to sitting in front of a stone cold hearth ripping pages from the book of my mind and watching my Memories feed the fire as I poke it with a red hot piece of steel It was all the fodder for the fire I could find Sipping from the crystal goblet filled to the brim with Lies mixed with Deceit with a slice of lemon and a dash of Arsenic just for a kick The fire casts prisms of light bouncing from the crystal onto bare walls to show a slow waltz of torture that bleeds down the bricks in sinking desperation A rainbow of colors from a ***** oil slick
helen
Written by
Australian
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem