"*It's the end, I have no doubt*"
Mhmd elHalwani 

Creeping voices in the night
Shadows lurking out of sight
Haunt me till the morning's light
No sleeping for me tonight

Looking at my bedroom door
My feet barely touch the floor
Something whispers down my core
Something that I can't ignore

Melted candles in my hand
Things I would not understand
My hope slips away like sand
This was not what I had planned

Slowly walking down the stairs
Feel a breeze sweep through my hair
Shadows lurk; in silence stare
Naked thoughts are all I wear

Out of breath I walk outside
Shaking fear that builds inside
No more places left to hide
Guilty thoughts of mine collide

Drenched in coward's blood and fear
I lost those who I held dear
It's all blurred, nothing is clear
Shadows from my past appear

As the silence speaks to me
Gets too loud it deafens me
My past will not leave me be
Pain and torment I foresee

Dazed and drawn by these lost souls
Broken thoughts I can't control
Ghosts slip through this gaping hole
Darkness has taken its toll

From the darkness dreams come out
Nightmares flailing all about
Closing in, I hear them shout
It's the end, I have no doubt

"What the hell is it you want?"
They retreat and me they taunt
One emerges, tall and gaunt
"Your life we will no more haunt."

"You have paid for your wrongdoing,"
He tells me, his voice booming
"This is now your redeeming
You are free." he says smiling

I look at the rising sun
I no longer have to run
My sentence is served and done
The ghosts have finally gone.

"At an end."
Dave Gledhill 

The Amazons fractured her skull
while he was busy
introducing himself, with a handshake
and a teapot:
'Good Morning!'
A tuneless whistle,
an anthem from nowhere
falls on deaf ears,
eyes faded to pastel
like a warning poster
after twenty copies
and acid rain.
Not an episode from real life
just an ivory circus,
the sport of savagery
Tired.
At an end.
It wouldn't happen in Blighty.
A dark heartbeat,
a steady drum
The pen is mightier than the spear,
blotted shapes in the rushes
Inert, unheard
No time for farewells

"It was the end of cherry season"
Melody W 

August arrived too early this year,
eager eyes and straight pleats
tethered to the sleepy confusion
of a disrupted midday siesta

It was the end of cherry season
yet they kept bursting forth,
firm to the touch and cool,
unyielding - not unlike you

When distant bells were heard,
I didn't turn my head one bit,
tangled, so entranced was I
by the thickets of sweet fruit

A waning year upon us again,
the moon chided me softly
as I turned my face away,
ashamed at my reflection

©MW
Melody W Nov 2012

As if cradled by a soft psithurism
then abruptly tossed into oblivion,
familiar leaves are cast from the oak -
frail corpses settling into the earth,
spirits ascending into the mist

Beyond the lonely trees
shrinking with the setting sun,
the little red farmhouse awaits
deserted now, the holding place
for breaths and sorrows

And still I can hear the ringing voices
from within these walls, echoing-
dissatisfied ghosts from my past,
desperate to overturn this unhappy fate

yet solemnly chasing the brontide
gracing me with neither word
nor final glance

©MW
"In the end, what will we have to grasp"
Melody W 

Troubled waters met with broken land tug
Heartstrings that tremulously threaten to unravel;
Existence on this dwindling planet is but a mere whisper that
Rustles these complex restraints,
Ever silent in their longings

In the end, what will we have to grasp
Save for these elusive phantom wills?

Aventurine stones are cast into the sea
Lovers still sing of devastating intersections of torment and desire
While children, their quiet eyes unwavering
Ache for the comforts of home and sturdy perennials that
Yield more than the first fruits of
Sorrow and catastrophe

Hold tightly to one another, while murmurs of
Obsidian lullabies and faraway dreams become
Perpetual fragments carried away by the wind; this
Ending is not truly the end.

©MW, acrostics
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