Breaking down.

My breathing speeds up,

Heart racing beneath my ribs,

Skin throbbing as the pulse speeds beneath my pale skin.

Eyes start filling with water,

As the earth begins spinning,

Growing dizzy,

Feeling sick.

Ribs tighten as memories flood over me,

I want to cry but the tears won't come.

My legs are too weak to stand,

My neck is too weak to hold my head up,

My body is too weak to suppress these feelings.

One by one,

My limbs grow numb

As I slip into a dark abyss.

But I still feel some pain,

The one spot that I want to be the most numb,

Is the only spot left.

My heart feels like it is being torn from my chest,

I cry out into my pillow

No one can hear me,

No one is there to help me.

I'm breaking down,

And there's no one here to save me. 

A hunter shot at a flock of geese that flew within his reach.

Two were stopped in their rapid flight and fell on the sandy beach.

The male bird lay at the water's edge and just before he died,

He faintly called to his wounded mate and she dragged herself to his side.

She bent her head and crooned to him in a way distressed and wild,

Caressing her one and only mate as a mother would a child.

Then covering him with her broken wing and gasping with failing breath,

She laid her head against his breast, a feeble honk . . .

then death.

This story is true, though crudely told. I was the man in this case.

I stood knee-deep in snow and cold, and the hot tears burned my face.

I buried the birds in the sand where they lay, wrapped in my hunting coat.

And I threw my gun and belt in the bay, when I crossed in the open boat.

Hunters will call me a right poor sport and scoff at the thing I did,

But that day something broke in my heart, and shoot again?

God forbid.

 

By Lemuel T. Ward

 

That's not the beginning of the end
That's the return to yourself
The return to innocence

Love, devotion
Feeling, emotion
Love, devotion
Feeling, emotion

Don't be afraid to be weak
Don't be too proud to be strong
Just look into your heart, my friend
That will be the return to yourself
The return to innocence

If you want, then start to laugh
If you must, then start to cry
Be yourself, don't hide
Just believe in destiny
Don't care what people say
Just follow your own way
Don't give up and use the chance
To return to innocence

That's not the beginning of the end
That's the return to yourself
The return to innocence

Don't care what people say
Follow just your own way
Don't give up, don't give up
To return, to return to innocence

If you want, then laugh
If you must, then cry
Be yourself, don't hide
Just believe in destiny

bye Enigma

 

My ANGEL, My Devil! You play me like a song, Even when I say good bye... It's never for too long, You fascinate me so! I can't withdraw from you, No matter what's been said... You do make dreams come true! I touch you... Oh! So gently, I know what turns you on, Press and caress you, MMMmmm! But then something goes wrong! My DEVIL! My Angel! I sometimes think you don't care, Your silence confounds me, Your reactions so unfair! I coax you 'til exhausted, Come back to me again! I can't afford a new computer! So! Stay with me, My Old Friend!

By rofile=jeb" target=_new>Stargzr

 

As I feel the daily trials, Eating away my sanity I sit back in my chair Lost in ponders and thoughts My mind crawls across, Dark wishes and desires Beliefs I have trouble to define Questions with answers unknown Try to drown into bliss, Escape from existence Yet always it comes back to you Imprinted in my very core That feeling doesn’t lapse, Nor will it go away I want to know who you are Arise from darkness to be mine Come here to be at my side, Sharing pleasure and pain alike I need you like you need me How can fate be this cruel? If I don’t know when I see, Will you realize it is me? I feel your heart and soul inside Yet lack the touch and gaze of your eyes As I fall back into the night, Prayers to the Dark Lords for clarity We are both made from Fallen Angels Together harnessing the shadows of the mind Alone we struggle with weakness, Come to me to create power endless

Creative Writing blog for Sean Katamay, the Serpent of Shadow. All work contained here is Copyright © Sean Katamay 2007

 

 

       They have little use. They are best as objects of torment.
         No government cares what you do with them.

         Like birds, and yet so human ...
         They mate by briefly looking at the other.
         Their eggs are like white jellybeans.

         Sometimes they have been said to inspire a man to do more with his life than he might have.
         But what is there for a man to do with his life?

         ... They burn beautifully with a blue flame.

         When they cry out it is like the screech of a tiny hinge; the cry of a bat. No one hears it ...
 

“Angels” from The Tormented Mirror: Poems by Russell Edson