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Prisoners
Dark and dank
These stoney walls
The dungeons of my mind.
A captive shadowed rotting gloom
A freakshow gathered over time!
Look on at the inhabitants...
What reason for thier stay?
The iron bars that block thier path
Refuse to rust - to rot away!
Beside the wreck of misery,
A grand and shining hall!
Great arches, sculptures, pillars too!
Carved marble reaching heavens thrall!
Well lit,
Well stocked,
You’re well received,
My friend pull up a chair!
And all the while a drifting stench
A stream that pools of poisoned air.
A trickling draft of chilly musk,
Through cage's iron slits...
Enjoy a feast - please eat your fill!
While pungently your nose it nips.
I find it strange,
But oh so true!
The smallest things in life we do
Can taint the whole.
Destroy the rest.
Trapped in my eyes.
Felt in my chest!
The things that I think sinister,
Are captive,
Held my prisoner
It tortures me...
It tortures me...
But I can not let go.
This read was interesting.
This read was interesting. You can't tell exactly what the poet is talking about, and yet, you get a sense it was very cathartic in it's manifestation. I rather liked it.
(but I usually do like 'deep')
..........
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "