As sorrow bounced in soft waves upon the moonlight
the sweet earth prepared
the young man brimming with melancholy
conquered by the sting of hollow
and sinking sadness
the wounds of despair burning raw…
The window of this poem
wishes to close
but instead, hangs open on rusty hinges
we must see it, we must
This young man is now in the road
any other time
it would be just a street
but now it’s hard pavement
he is walking, dizzy
he is falling fast
victim of endless crusades
turmoil, rage, utter, utter sadness
carving reckless into his skin
years have poured into others
and he is lost, lost
He is coming up swiftly
to the perimeter of this poem
and the door to dread
is swinging out wildly
You want to turn away now
you don’t really want to know
the dire depths seeping into caverns of pain
the anguish scalding his soul
Maybe, just maybe
he could stop for a moment
and focus
will himself onward, maybe…
But it brings us here
to the center of this poem
and you really wish the poet wouldn’t
take you here
wish that you might
avert your eyes, brace your heart
but you’re here now…
He decides his own fate
fingers adorned with agony’s rings
he grabs cold steel
and holds it there
then oblivion
somewhere the weaver at the loom
weaves the burial shroud…
The poem now lies torn
words spilling out upon imperfect concrete
seeking definition
shuffling those broken words
now adrift in ocean waves of salty tears.
21 Comments
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Love how you take us on the journey through this poem!
Thank you so much, Marissa!
I love how you kind of compared the progression of the poem to the traveller’s journey. Beautifully written and the picture you chose really reflects the mood of the poem. You are truly an artist!
Thank you, I appreciate your very gracious compliment.
This really drew me in and held me uncomfortably close. Gripping poetry.
Thank you. I appreciate your very generous comment.
Reblogged this on John Cowgill's Literature Site and commented:
By a great lady named Lana.
That’s a wow from me and not just any run of the mill wow, more of an upper upper case wow if such a thing existed. A story of one man’s battle with depression but layered with how long depression has existed, it’s horror and the poets own battles. Excellence has visited us. Well done, Lana an awesome effort. 🙂
Thank you so much, Phil. I am quite honored to receive an upper case wow especially from a poet who is incredibly gifted with verse.
Mercy, this one is incredibly sad. I’ve known people suffering from depression, and most of them need professional help, the kind the rest of us aren’t equipped to provide. Still, sitting by and watching, yet doing nothing, makes one feel terribly inept. Beautifully written, ma’am!
Thank you, Debbie. I know a family that had to deal with suicide of their child during the holidays. I wouldn’t even know how to get through that. It is such a terrible thing. The holidays seem to be a difficult time for many people and demonstrates how devastating depression can be.
So true. Death is so *final*.
Wow! This is a stunning piece of poetry, L.T.! A real tour de force! Reading it felt like being sucked into a maelstrom of emotions of despair. Brava!
And happy New Year! 😄😚
I love the pace here, L. T. I’m with you (him) the whole way.
Thank you so much, D.D. 😀
Good Lord, Lana, what a sublime poem. Did you get magic poetry pills for Christmas? Just beautiful and aching. Loved it 🙂
Thank you so much, Diana. Poetry pills, ha ha…no, but I think I need some if they are available 😀
No you don’t. You do just fine without them <3
Thank you so much for the compliment, Diana <3
Love how the anguish is woven into the poem and also IS the poem. It moves from one perspective to the other so smoothly. Very nicely crafted, Lana. 🙂
Thank you, Joan. Suicide is a truly sad subject to address and those feelings of grief linger for so long.