Sometimes I can't bear to see it again,
that dreaded gaze
like looking into the eyes of a corpse,
feeling the death inside,
as if being poisoned by having embalming fluid
slowly crawling through my body.
Everyday, no matter the weather,
poverty or blessings,
her voice speaks to me in tones of some dreaded dirge,
shadows of the dark chasm where she lives
drive her to moods where her tongue only
knows how to speak tales with valleys full of despair.
I imagine the gray cloud
which she sees constantly hanging over our bed,
love and passion long ago
buried in a tomb under our mattress
along with any hope
a single dawn would come to change her spirit.
Tomorrow is a graveyard where we languish,
undertaker has my companion's face,
eulogy is the crippling silence
where the screams of my rotting soul
are lost in the morgue
we call our home.
A contest entry
- depression or dark love by Darkened eyes.
370 points, ended May 24, 2007, 26 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Wow i really like this, i started this contest knowing i had experience of both topics and this is a perfect description,
'a single dawn would come to change her spirit.'
It's filled with emotion and beautifully written. -
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Thank you for the wonderful comment.
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