Tag: Pain
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With many agonies
And inner pain
Through dark nights
And the dawn again
She lived with scourge
And cold dark rain
For the secrets she held
She took the blame
They called her crazy
A woman insane
The vilest among them
Even cursed her name
Until that day an angel came
And said to her;
In you I see the same
It was not your fault
You are not to blame
Within you is light
And a hidden flame
My daughter be at peace
And let healing reign
Suffer no more
And break the chains
The world is yours
For blessed is your name
Embrace your light
And live again. -
I am a child of the night
Hear my growls of hunger
See the pain that I suffer
Witness the eyes that have
Seen what can never be unseen
Hear my cries
Look into my soul and see
The dark secrets that
I withhold from my mother
See my tears and the hurt
That I daily suffer
Witness the pain inflicted
By a real life monster
Who causes great harm
And nights of insomnia
Record my dreams of
being a bird in flight
And escaping the torture
See the scars on my mind
And on my soul
Witness the physical and mental
Trauma that takes a double toll
See the land of peace
That my mind has devised
Where there is no more pain
Only love and clear blue skies
Hear the screams that awaken
Me at night
The bad dreams, the fear, the fright
See my Christmas list to Santa for toys,
And for the suffering to go away
To be accepted by my peers at school
who tell me I’m not wanted,
And exclude me from their play
See my poverty and the laughter in class
From boys and girls of a different class
Feel my anger and feel my pain
Feel my sadness walking home in the rain
See my ideations of not wanting
To be here anymore
Looking at cars go by
Wishing I wasn’t poor
See the feelings of pain
And revenge that I hide
That I’ve never told, and eat me up inside
This cold cold world is no place for a child
I’m sorry I have to go; the street lights are on
Mom says I have to come inside. -
As the small
Yellow pills wear off
Thus begins his
Descent into hell. -
The black hearts of men; the wantonness; the covetousness; the deceit.
The taking of innocence; the screams; the blood that cries out for vengeance.
The wicked thoughts of the mind that corrupt and corrode the soul and spirit.
The darkness of it is black like tar; the stench of it—pungent and unfamiliar.
It causes the eyes to water. It stifles the air in the lungs.A once beautiful red rose is wilted and discolored; the stem becomes lifeless. the petals decompose from the edges. When they can hold on no longer, the dark petals fall away into the abyss.
The bloodshot eyes that have witnessed torment, and lifelessness, and misery. The dark cell with heavy chains; the moaning and the cries of men in that place you can’t see your hands in in front of your face; the terror that stalks and lies in wait. The unquenchable thirst. The dogged hunger. The silence and isolation that leads to madness. The insanity of the once astute, well spoken and sane. The grinding of teeth; the nakedness; the withering away of flesh. The numbness of the soul. The anesthesia that is sought to take away the pain. The dark clouds; the eternal rain.
The desolation.
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A raven follows me in my dreams. She watches with a keen eye. Her dark feathers make her impossible to be seen in the dark place. She has always been there, watching, observing. She has witnessed my deep suffering and she knows my plight. In the dark place, I stumble trying to find my way out. I cannot see my hands in front of my face. The raven’s piercing cries are my only signal. The dark place refuses to let me go; it is a parasite that feeds on me day and night. It renders me lethargic. It allows just enough life for an existence, but nothing more.
I am breathing but I have not lived in years. It slowly drains my life force as I crawl toward the cries of the raven. My movements are slow and my will almost non existent. The raven beckons me, but I don’t know where. I had seen a light here before in the distant past but the dark place has hidden it from me. What I would give for just a glimpse of that light, to see it at least once more.
. . . My thoughts consume me.
I crawl on to my unknown destination in the dark place. The raven flaps her wings ahead in the distance. Will I escape or am I resigned to my fate? The question I ask myself is almost rhetorical as the hope I once had is blown away like leaves in the wind. My blood boils as I think about the years of torment in this place. I will gather up my will for one last valiant try.
The raven senses my resolve.
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In a short silk white robe tortured beauty lies listless on a French daybed. Strewn empty wine bottles and scattered pills linger on the floor. A picture of her smiling brightly with her parents atop of the fireplace sits in its frame. In her pain she looks up and remembers the days of her joy; she stretches forth her arm toward the photo as if reaching for a piece of heaven. In her listlessness she is paralyzed; tears run and fall from long lashes, flawless makeup and beautiful eyes.
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Cold winter winds blow tears away from green eyes;
Sobbing reverberates in the frigid night.
Towering trees shed leaves to acknowledge her agony.
Her loving heart is deeply wounded from sorrow;
A bright winter moon highlights a trail of red snow. -
Remnants of suffering are left in dark rooms;
Only silence fills the void.
Everything remains untouched, and as it was before.
Tortured faces in picture frames blankly stare. -
In a dimly lit room,
Gaunt, bluish discolored hands
Slowly reach for heavenly light.
Intimate Compositions 