Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Severed Quiddity

The tumultuous downpour of fallen dreams
 Disintegrated fragments reduced and degraded
 It’s abandoned relics a tribute to despair
Trapped and shackled – the barrier unseen
 The vortex ensues; its maelstrom unrestrained
His Will terminally shredded and diminished
In a cataclysm of adversity

Regurgitated remnants of a vulnerable psyche
 Choke in the putrid fumes of futility
 Despondent and withering from the scourge

Spirit lies mauled in the barren pit
 Where the hollowness of a phantom wind
 Echoes the distant cry
 Of death’s song


  1. I know. Isn’t it terrible when a soul is damaged?

  2. When you read this to me, your friend had just asked you to write something, I believe it was either happy or positive. I laughed through your reading because I thought this was your smart response. I didn't know until later it was just the opposite, his response to your poem. Uh, I have to agree this time. Come back from the Darkside, at least for an short interlude (it will enhance your literary range if nothing else!)

  3. After reading the poem he challenged me to write something with a happy ending, which I did. I’ll send it to you and you’ll see for yourself that I can, in fact, write happy things – albeit my definition of happy.