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The killing
`~,,~`
One evening, sat in my environment
Writing drink in hand
I took to writing inspirations
of heartaches I knew from once before,
I resolved to hesitate no longer, to revisit things that fell from heaven
Into darken parts of horror,
Into darker broken corners
Of memory hoards that I once and still do bore,
Dark, silent and undaunted I finally hesitated no longer
The killing time, the killing of past present and future, darkness over took me,
Its name was un-recounted,
a nameless horror that overtakes me,
The sound metallic, with things crawling upon my floor
Thoughts tumbling forward from hells explore,
Has found me, sitting,
sitting in my own environment, with writing drink in hand
Desiring for a recounting of my hearts breaking into parchment bleeding from steel pen,
As a murder coming from the sky
Yes floating down towards me,
It lurks it haunts it wants me,
To drag me back to hell, and to have me cast into oblivions open door
Where the cruel ones are always waiting
And reform me from the styx that once born shallow watered demons
It is there in my recounting,
I succumbed to memory and the fallen
The killing, of the write and the killing of what was me
With writing drink in hand,
tumbled forth from the haunting of my inner hells explore;
How can I remember,
That what was once fought hard to dismember
Every piece of a sinner’s core,
Inside I can feel my soul is weeping
And overflowing the jar upon the floor
For I knew my God has left me
With sights steel and undaunted
With sights bore upon me,
Grim and fire eyed, standing now before what was once I
The air ashen and molten floors
Traversing down once sacred corridors
My minds door once locked now stuck open
Ushering this thing now creeping and tumbling towards me
The air itself now chokes me, and my heart is failing within me
Floating away and being dragged downwards,
From the killing, of my inner hearts explore
I see myself presently still sat there,
Sitting in my own made environment,
Silent, dark and undoubting, with writing drink in hand
I had taken all that could be stand
In this my final act of dying
```~~~…~~~```
One evening, sat in my environment
Writing drink in hand
I took to writing inspirations
of heartaches I knew from once before,
I resolved to hesitate no longer, to revisit things that fell from heaven
Into darken parts of horror,
Into darker broken corners
Of memory hoards that I once and still do bore,
Dark, silent and undaunted I finally hesitated no longer
The killing time, the killing of past present and future, darkness over took me,
Its name was un-recounted,
a nameless horror that overtakes me,
The sound metallic, with things crawling upon my floor
Thoughts tumbling forward from hells explore,
Has found me, sitting,
sitting in my own environment, with writing drink in hand
Desiring for a recounting of my hearts breaking into parchment bleeding from steel pen,
As a murder coming from the sky
Yes floating down towards me,
It lurks it haunts it wants me,
To drag me back to hell, and to have me cast into oblivions open door
Where the cruel ones are always waiting
And reform me from the styx that once born shallow watered demons
It is there in my recounting,
I succumbed to memory and the fallen
The killing, of the write and the killing of what was me
With writing drink in hand,
tumbled forth from the haunting of my inner hells explore;
How can I remember,
That what was once fought hard to dismember
Every piece of a sinner’s core,
Inside I can feel my soul is weeping
And overflowing the jar upon the floor
For I knew my God has left me
With sights steel and undaunted
With sights bore upon me,
Grim and fire eyed, standing now before what was once I
The air ashen and molten floors
Traversing down once sacred corridors
My minds door once locked now stuck open
Ushering this thing now creeping and tumbling towards me
The air itself now chokes me, and my heart is failing within me
Floating away and being dragged downwards,
From the killing, of my inner hearts explore
I see myself presently still sat there,
Sitting in my own made environment,
Silent, dark and undoubting, with writing drink in hand
I had taken all that could be stand
In this my final act of dying
```~~~…~~~```
Published 20th Oct 2015
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24th Oct 2015 10:49am
Killer poem!, no pun intended.Almost feels like the person is hiding guilt because he doesn't wish to be punished.
