The Voice
Metaphoric poetry...about my current feelings, friends and life in general :)
The Voice
As I spend these nights pondering, staring into the dull screen.
The glow of some scientific description, made into light.
As I send my thoughts wandering, glaring into the full darkness.
The sorrows of some terrific asphyxiation, aids my plight.
The rope in my hand, knotted and frayed.
Much like my core, pounded and ground.
The sweat in my palm, rotted and grayed.
Touch like my whore, grounded and round.
Bump after bump I slide, ever downwards towards the crater.
A gaping hole of nothingness, darkness incarnate.
Jump after jump I glide, every so still nowhere near the equator.
A rasping hope of salvation, miracles of garnets.
I close my eyes and listen, for a sound of hope and joy,
For the birds' cries for companionship, something to delve into my loneliness.
I lose my guise and christen, for a mound of fruit and soy.
For the gods' tries at mercy, someone to shelve unto my mind.
As I descend one more knot, a few more inches perhaps.
I look up at the starless night, afraid to climb or to fall.
What is this struggle, why do I persist?
Why is there a toggle, why do I resist?
As I recant one more lot, a spare memory relapses.
I look down into the lightless blight, weighted by the toll.
Ah how I wish to let go, to fall endlessly with a smile.
Plummeting towards the unknown, yet, the glad end.
I do hear the voice, yelling from somewhere beyond.
Ah what I'd dish for my love, to call hopelessly with a smile.
Rummaging within my broken, and riddled mind.
How long as the voice called, I wonder.
Why would anyone call for me, I ponder.
Through the treacherous troughs and hills, the voice had remained.
Ah yes, I do recall those sonorous vibrations...
Words that kept me going, causing me to thrust a hand forward.
Words that left me hoping, causing me to sprout a reed of dream.
Mayhap it shall pull me up again, just maybe.
Perhaps the voice will come closer, so it becomes a whisper, not a yell.
Maybe It could help me up again, I hope to gods it be.
Collapse the wall of hate and anguish, so it becomes a picture, not a portrait.
To one day climb over the edge, to see beyond the horizon.
To one day cry over the ledge, to read beyond the norm.
To shed tears in recollection, of my numerous reconciliations
To shed years in reflection, of my humorous shenanigans.
To one night hug the one I love, to dreams untroubled.
To one night tug the one I love, to beams of morning light.
Comments are always welcome...
please let me know what I can improve, and what you got out of it :)
Thanks for reading, everyone.
(C) Ephemeral_Dreams. do not distribute, vend or copy without express permission from the author.