Favorite Quote
"As often as a study is cultivated by narrow minds, they will draw from it narrow conclusions."
-- JOHN STUART MILL
Poetry
Disturbed
In the grayish light,
a feeling of damp, eeriness
surrounds me
filling my nostrils
with a pungent smell.
There I lie in confusion
for I realize
not everything is well.
Never had I felt
something this merciless.
This is a sign.
It dawns in me,
that it's time.
Frantic, I bang roaringly
against the unresponsive,
concrete walls,
trying to escape this
fearful nightmare.
But only silent whispers
return my calls.
Putting my head in my
hands
feeling the soft, uncontrollable
tears
slide down the contours
of my face,
I clench my fists tightly
beside me.
My nails
puncturing the rough,
calloused skin
drawing dark, red droplets
of human blood,
slowing dripping
towards the already moist
ground.
I gave out
a sudden harsh, despicable,
tortured cry
like a shabby, pathetic,
petty animal
My knees
collapses under me
sending my heavy being
to the cold, motionless
bottom beneath me.
The drop was unhurried
like falling into an
abyss -
endless and unknown -,
until I smash into the
ground.
My dark heart
throbs in my dry, burning
throat
clogging the whimpers
of fear
in this mortal's soul.
The horror, terror, and
dread
consumes my spirit,
swallowing me whole.
Sobbing with all the
pain I taste
was like the sense
of a dozen sharp-pointed
arrows
piercing my black heart.
With that
goes the thin grasp
of sanity
and replaces it
with total morbid insanity.
Eyes unfocused, head
aches,
spinning dizzily,
inhaling deeply,
gasping for the needed
air,
panic strikes,
and I clutch violently
at the roots of my hair,
yanking forcefully
as to keep the pain away
by adding more pain.
And constantly,
the unperturbed room
fills with horrible echoes
of my agonized, demented
screams,
again.