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The Ungenial Hymns In Mausoleums

Stacked and racked like a Sabian over a snare in a dungeon-esque room with moss covered walls and stale air.

Liquid drips, but doesn’t reveal it’s crevice; its echo, like water torture to the crooning wail of lonely souls.

Who could rest in such a place?

.

Safe from all but vermin, entombed and blanketed with cold morning dew, footsteps approach and I realize I am no longer alone.  looking over my shoulder, concrete slabs in scattered disarray eye me in the their sleep as if to say “Welcome home”.

I’ve waged war.  I’ve fought demons.  I’ve survived and cried and bled all I could; the rusted lock gives way to a creaking arthritic chamber door unveiling it’s hidden black toothed grin.

The cold is a heaviness in my chest as if gravity is an anomaly here.

Clawed with desire, my suit in shreds and stained with age.  The rhythm of my heart has seemed to stop.  Confused and disoriented with familiarity, never have I felt so alone in a such a crowded place.

My chest heaves as if to breathe, but the air is still... less the eerie chill penetrating me like a forked tongue in ozoned heavens.

Down shines the end of plight.  For I... I see the light... so beautiful, so bright, for the first time, I see the light!

At long last... I relinquish myself from the grips of hell, and let myself go of angels who fell.


                                                                                            .and...
                                                                          .and I rise...
......................................................I rise...
.
.
.
                                                                                                    ...I

                                                                                                          F
         
                                                                                                          A

                                                                                                          L

                                                                                                          L
Impaled
    With blood bubbled breath
This...
        ...was my death.

Laughing and moaning in jubilant depravity
    Whispers of clapping
  to the sin of my symphony.

On display for the dead to see
    To smile at the dying of me.

          I could kill
            each and every one
                For this humiliation!

And so, this is how the afterlife was designed to be spent.

      In a graveyard amphitheater
      Repeating deaths sequestered
      By the Devil, who loves his jesters.



By:  Jaye Eryk
Copyright ©2007

A contest entry

Non-monosyllabic comments welcomed

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Comments

1 - 9 of 9

  • Danna Hobart
    November 17, 2008
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    This is a very ambitious and well done piece. Thank you for entering.


  • ears2hearyou gold member
    October 16, 2008
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    may goodness...wasn't that a lovely textured poem,
    many layers to bask in and enjoy!
    a good example of great writing and imagery through out.
    you balanced it really well....kept reality a part of
    it not excusing or validating ....but revealing it
    layer by layer until the shards of bone were clearly
    seen and heard.

    well done!
    feasted our poetic souls!
    ears/Seattle

    BRAVO! BRAVO!


  • MissStranger
    May 31, 2008

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    very unique!!!didn't expected ot a such original approach of the subject!thank you for entering and good luck!


  • Rianna Bear
    March 1, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    this took me to a place where i'm glad i read this during the day time. your dark imagery gave me the creeps and left me with some eerie shivers. i liked best the lines (well, hard to pick just a couple), "Whispers of clapping/to the sin of my symphony./On display for the dead to see/To smile at the dying of me."

    thanks for your entry.

    *R


  • notorious
    January 26, 2008

    Edit | Reply

    Possibly my favorite poem yet! Really! =)

    I loved every line, but there was just one bit that I didn't like...the word -esque. I love the word -esque in use for conversations or maybe character dialogue in a story, but in a poem...it doesn't suit the flow of your cleverly worded poetry--it's too casual for a poem like this...The word -esque also seems to connote that it's only LIKE a dungeon--if you had left it "dungeon room", it would have been much more powerful and dungeon-y. Now onto the positive (and yes, there's a hell of a lot of positive!)

    "but doesn’t reveal it’s crevice"
    Loved this...it's genius...! It makes it sound enigmatic in a really eerie way.

    "Safe from all but vermin"
    Rather amusing, in a dark way.

    “Welcome home”.
    Classic.

    I loved the ellipsis preceding your "death" as well as these lines:

    "In a graveyard amphitheater
    Repeating deaths sequestered
    By the Devil who loves his jesters."

    The word amphitheater is just genius..."sequestered" I have a vague idea of what this means, but I think you should tell me exactly what it means in your context...the last line has the devil capitalized, which is also genius...the word "jesters" I also love...Wow...my favorite poem of your's so far! =)

    Jessica



  • Pyper Rain gold member
    December 21, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    When even dying gives no solace, leading one to think they've finally found peace, only to find yet another tortuous game of humiliation...

    Quite another thought all together to think one would have to live out eternity repeating this game over and over...

    I sometimes feel life is much like this...

    Well done, good luck...

    ~B.


  • LadyDementia gold member
    December 20, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    Amazing dark imagery. A very good description of how hell could be pictured. Best of luck in my contest.
    Pink


  • 245Trioxin
    December 18, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    Just wanted to mention (because it looks odd w/out formatting in the comment) that the "I rise...and rise..." portion is written with the intention of ascension. The only way to accomplish that is by writing bottom to top. I tried to make it as easy on the reader as possible.


  • Broken Machine
    December 18, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    Dude I loved this! You should totally win! haha. It was really good!

    "At long last... I relinquish myself from the grips of hell, and let myself go of angels who fell. ...and... ...and I rise........I rise...
    ... ...I fall.
    Impaled
    With blood bubbled breath
    This...
    ...was my death."
    I love that part, you are brilliant. ( =

1 - 9 of 9