Poetry

Page I

Midnight Reservation

Midnight Reservation 

I’ve made my reservation 

for twelve tonight.

My life will soon end at

The stroke of midnight.


The Pendulum Clock

ticks half past eleven.

Perhaps my  soul will

find peace in Heaven.


I've had my last rites

performed by a priest.

Now, all that remains

is God's kind release.


When Death arrives at

my door to collect me.

I pray those I love will 

never forget me.

 

Midnight approaches,

but I fear it's too late.

Perhaps my soul was

not meant to be saved.


My time has now come  

the hour striked twelve, 

but here to greet me 

is the Devil himself.

The Man Outside My Window

The Man Outside My Window

 There’s a man outside my window tonight.

Calling to me under the pale moonlight.

He wants me to follow.

To where, I don’t know.

Perhaps only places the devil would go.

 

To what do I owe this most strange intrusion?

Could this man be a mere delusion?

A manifestation built from the mind.

An illusion of the most horrific kind.

 

As I stood frozen with terror and dread.

An awful thought danced in my head.

Could this image before me be real?

The truth I fear will soon be revealed.

 

Could this be the dark angel of death?

Or has the devil himself

Come to claim my last breath.

He beckons me from the streets below.

The man outside, outside my window.

Regrets are like Ghosts

Regrets are like Ghosts

The mistakes we’ve made,

they haunt us like ghosts.

Devouring our dreams

and killing our hopes.

 

Why can’t we forget the

things that we’ve done?

The unspeakable things

we whisper to no one.

 

The things we regret,

they can’t be outrun.

Not even from the

barrel of a gun.


Why must we live with 

the pain we've caused?

We pretend to be happy

but our soul is lost.

 

The mistakes  we’ve made,

are burdens we must bear.

We can cover them up,

but they are still there. 

Alone in the Dark

Alone in the Dark

When I lie alone

in the dark at night,

spirits turn restless and

the shadows come to life.

 

I pray to god

my eyes deceive me.

I’d cry out for help but

who would believe me?

 

Each and every night

they roam these halls.

Doomed to spend eternity

imprisoned by these walls.

 

They keep from the light

but I hear them speaking.

They talk of their past and

the business they’re seeking.

 

Ghastly silhouettes gather 

over my bed.

The horrors that haunt me

aren't just in my head.

 

They whisper my name,

claiming me as their own.

Just another lost soul

in the dark, alone.

The Dead Living

The Dead Living

What have I done to deserve such pain.

A tortured soul inside this twisted frame.


My bones are hollow and my body aches

My blood runs cold as my beating heart  breaks.

My skin is pale and my pulse is weak.

My mouth can’t find the words to speak.


I fear this fate is far worse than death.

I won't find peace until my last breath.


My days are crippled by the weight of regret.

My past is a burden I can never forget.

My nights are black and have no end.

My future is fleeting like ash in the wind.


I walk this earth neither living nor dead.

While a  war still wages inside my head.


My life has no meaning or happiness left.

My time on the clock was never well kept.

My spirit is bound with shackles and chains.

My shadow, I fear is all that remains.


Why won’t God hear my prayers for mercy?

I’ll never be  free from the Devil that cursed me.

Reflection of the Mind

Reflection of the Mind

 When I stare into the mirror.

I see all the things that I fear.

Lack of ambition.

Full of indecision.

I wish the future was more clear.

 

I wipe the image from the glass

But it’s still there staring back.

Instead of turning

I stare deep.

Behind this wolf is just a sheep.

 

I try not to look when I creep past

But the man in the mirror,

He grins and laughs.

The first thing I see

When I wake and the last.

Forever confined to his prison of glass.

 

The man in the mirror,

He begs to be free.

The image in the glass,

I fear is me.

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