I am he, of whom no one speaks
I am he, a disciple of travesty
Ignorance is my shame.
I am he who let loose the doves
With broken wings
Falling from above - their message of love; a fallacy.
With limbs of trampled twigs, a heart filled with earth, the legs from which I traverse, cloven and awkwardly apart. A broken shadow, I saunter in dream constricting all color from everything.
My eyes are ashen, I see only what was. My hands are scabbed and my fingers… like flagellated infections… envenoming the future.
I get fulfillment in others emptiness, the creator of voids, the harvester of sorrow. I reek of hopelessness, and bathe begrimed in innocence.
The only egress is within and I stand alone, home… (is its path).
A demon hell bent on suffrage: an entity rather… of nonfiction and revelation. Created by the death of decency; I am empowered to disfigure as I see fit.
A body of human form… a Playdoh factory for the Mephistophelean paramour.
I am he, you cannot see
I am he, and you are me
Loneliness: our comfort suite.
A signature in bruise or blood is all I need
To rise up from these lurid flames.
The black sheep of the family tree
Inscribed in shame
My name in shade
My soul enslaved
as depression…
... paves the way.
By: Jaye Eryk
Copyright ©2008
Non-monosyllabic comments welcomed
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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you know what i hate?? when people quote back your entire poem in their comments!!
anyway...
i think you ended this one in the most perfect way. just as you began it of someone not spoken of...and one who has no name. It just retouched that part...and i liked that.
what isolation i feel with this one...as if my own was not enough. chills have run down me leaving such a void. the anguish which you release almost scars my heart.
such gut wrenching emotions...but, tis expected from your writes! i swear to you...your pieces will be REALLY recognized one day. of course...after we're dead. doesn't that suck? or maybe it's better that way!
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great poem... really understood the poem.... keep up the great work
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Loneliness: our comfort suite,
My eyes are ashen, I see only what was. My hands are scabbed and my fingers… like flagellated infections… envenoming the future. This brings me to the past, what was, that once upon a time feeling, the light that never shinned bright enough for two. The he, who is blended into pieces, or you, as you two become we, the mind lives with a crick in each thought of what once was, as the ink of true lies pen on and on. Bravo brother, and I only wish you brighter days, and when ya care for someone true, you send all the triangles ya can. Oh, by the way, I had probably three better comments than these prior, but good old AP, squared them all up, as they vanished into cyber cells, never to be recaptured again.
poeticweaver
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"I am he, a disciple of travesty"
Like 'disciple of travesty'. You and your damn vocab!!
"Ignorance is my shame."
Well, you don't seem to have much ignorance...the people who should be ashamed aren't!! Good line though. Mostly people are ignorant and are ignorant to their ignorance.
"I am he who let loose the doves
With broken wings"
I like the imagery here and the metaphors woven in with 'broken wings'...
"their message of love; a fallacy."
LoL, is this your perspective on love? You're too funny.
"A broken shadow, I saunter in dream constricting all color from everything."
I just like this. It's poetic.
"Loneliness: our comfort suite."
HAHAHA, love this line.
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I am he, who no one can see. I am death, the one that awaits you for all eternity! Wow...dark and impressive write my friend! ~Sie
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That's so good! The words you used and the things you said reminded me of a band called Demon Hunter, they're really good too! Thanks for posting it, I love reading your poems. ^_^
<3
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