By: DesolateCreature
######
i see your eyes,
face pressed against the glass of the world.
fingers slip through limpid strands
abode of the dead.
human discoloration, decomposing john doe
perishable “soul”.
a spectacle collection, bedlam of the mind
anarchy of the middle class.
clandestine ignorance, the bell has tolled
civilization isn’t civilized
but they “light the dark”,
minds vised shut.
######
i am raging, I’m digging a grave for me
i enter the “evil” coterie
i forage for freedom, i invade my captive thoughts
releasing my foothold.
i
fall
from
grace……….
i have no recourse
beliefs have collapsed
i move to fallow space
i am dismantling
my fictional story
######
desolatecreature
More Poetry by Desolatecreature can be found at her blogsite where you will find light dark and all the shades of grey.
The artist Sara Witty and her artwork can be found HERE and HERE for the use of her art we offer our humble thanks.
Renee Garcia Brown
And so should we all…methinks.
With the “minds vised shut” any rational being must think of deconstructing in order to assess. Begin again. Our stories.
Strongly emotive; effectively executed. Moving from the stillness of disintegrating beliefs into an abruptly active phase of dismantling. As Grainne said, this is the beginning; the parts and pieces left behind to build and assemble. Excellent verse.