Wednesday, 1 January 2014

In The Mists

In the mists I sit
Watching the world that could be
Shaped by the gentle touch of air
Patterns form, billow, are gone
A gateway into the future
Or the past

Sitting and watching I see their faces come
And go
Lovers long lost
Friends now turned from me
Enemies once held dear
All fading as the mist

I sit
Tormented by the waves of revulsion of acts past present themselves
Taking form in the darkness again and again
Allowing the gentle torment of watching
As I fail time and time again
Yet each fresh in my memory
As if only yesterday

The mist swirls around me
Not willing to surrender to its soft embrace I watch
As the future unfolds in its depths
A future of pain
A future of suffering
A future that resembles past and present
Comforting pain
Familiar sorrow
The agonies of this future are as nothing
Blows and wounds I have suffered a thousand times
Now meaningless with repetition

I sit as the mist draws closer
Torn, wanting to surrender
Wanting to feel, even if only pain
Wanting the numb, the blank, the nothing
Willing the mist to swallow me
Let it all fade
Whiteness overcoming
A final peace

No comments:

Post a comment