Original Poetry Forums

Downchild

10-23-2009 at 04:21:18 AM

Downchild



Free me, someone
anyone
the words
never to be elevated
to sound.
How long
in this darkness
had
my body wept
oozing unknown fluids
a momentary reprieve
if only my vision would return
the swelling subside
and this nightmare
disolve, fade
like fog from a dream.
The shivers
involuntary convulsing
bring their cold
deep
attaching the chill
the harshness of winter
to the breaks, fractures and seepage
where a peaceful soul
had once
taken residence.
I can't move
the chains
mere rewards
for those open eyes
satisfy, reassure
I shall remain
til morning comes
and the swelling, tearing
and breaking begin anew.
Today another section
passed over
at my times end
for a lack of intrest
as those less sensitive areas
provide no entertainment value
to this enigma
whose only focus
is to break and pummel my body
until I lose the strength
to resist, cry out
to hope, to let go
to see in the end
I didn't matter
God never existed
and my guardian angel
was nothing more
than a weight
I had to bear
because
a deluded mind
has selective beliefs and illusions
that form the basis
for my facade.
Will you remember
the vision
my blood trickling through snow
back into the busom
of mother earth
while I lay dying
senselessly.?


Note: Written for a friend who was kidnapped and beat senselessly for 10 days by a serial killer.

10-23-2009 at 10:52:57 PM

Re: Downchild

I am sorry about your friend...that sounds terrible. But, I am one person who would rather hear of a broken heart, rather than a broken body...maybe you could do good with the folks in forum, Poets of Blood....Just my thoughts...

10-24-2009 at 03:20:17 AM

Re: Downchild

The challenge was death so this poem relates to that in that she was killed spiritually and mostly physically.. Thanks for the suggestion and reading....
Larry grin

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.