So long do I wait,
creating fictions
that are so much more
desirable than the world
that claims dominance
over my perceived reality,
embracing lives
in characterisations
that are so much more
appealing to my senses,
becoming a chameleon
to my dreams,
slipping further
and further away,
losing my sensations
of self in predilection
of all that I create
in anticipation
of who or what
I may yet become.
Changing realities,
changing perceptions,
changing the world
around me,
creating anomalies
in the streams
of causal nexus,
fighting the darkness,
embracing the madness,
loosing my demon
on a world of potentiality,
losing mastery over
the voices of eidolon,
scribing in the shadows
of sibyllic visions
of what I know should be
yet waking to worlds
that defy the verity
of fading yesterdays
in a paradox
of changing
tomorrows.
And so I weep,
mourning all
that is lost
in the eyes of fate,
holding destiny
in the palm
of my hand,
crushed
in the
irony
that
I
was
not
meant
to
be.
Author notes
Pic from http://www.www.gothicwallpaper.info/images/wallpapers/dark-gothic-faces-wallpaper-419414.jpeg
A contest entry
- Anything and everything by Firequeen.
850 points, ended November 9, 13 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Now thats what I'm talking about
This is outstanding
The end of this piece really sends it all home
BRAVO!!!!
thank you for this entry
Keep the ink flowing
fire

-
This is fantastic
I was waiting, hoping and praying i'd get somethin that knocked at the door of my muse and invited her out to play and THIS IS IT!!!!!
congratulations -
Brilliant Fritz, glad I didn't miss seeing this one.
Sheila


-
This is a perfect example of why I have missed reading you...
I love every well crafted line but I found these lines particularly genius--
' the voices of eidolon,
scribing in the shadows
of sibyllic visions '
Thank you for sharing

Pastel
'

-
Amazing
I loved this... the darkness and the narrator's shifting sense of self... the aptly described struggle with... dissociation? depression? borderline? or simply a fatigue with one's existence... (as though one can name a demon so easily!)
Regardless, this poem captures the reader's dark fancy and can only be described as deserving of clappies.


1 - 5 of 5






