Catacombs of Introspection

Filed under: Poetry — 25 March 1998 @ 6:45 pm

Quiet exasperation,
Questiong existence.
Down, lost somewhere in my reflection.
Darkness, eyes blackened by soot.
Fire once burned strong and high.
Faintly it struggles to survive.
Cold remains of what used to inspire the flame,
Callously numb my bloody fingers and freeze my dirty tears.
Screaming, to the distance, unheard.
Silence eerily shouts back, causing me to tremble
Tripping, stumbling to find a way out
To escape this prison within.
Beating the ground to relieve the pain
Blood stains etch my signature in the soil.

Blurred vision perceives light afar
Never to be reached, only seen
Never to be grasped, only felt
Bowing to the earth, tasting the dust, I hold it high.

Spring 1998
Grantham, PA

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