A dark new place

2 Comments

Tags:
  • Angst
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  • Emotional
    • ,
  • Dark Poetry
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  • Lost Love
    • ,
  • Sadness

    A dark new place

     how is it that we've found ourselves here?
    a place that neither of us could have dreamed up.
    where the air grows thick, and the sky stays black.
    The trees as well as the people grow twisted.
    this is where our hopes and dreams lay down and die.

    We've been caught in the middle of a dying village
    for a reason not yet known to either of us
    the air grows cold as the fog rolls in from the woods
    covering this town and everything in it in a layer of ash
    the air clears, voices stop. As the people fall to their knees

    the sound of the town weeping carries to the hills
    my body acts without me as i too fall to my knees
    the pain i've carried in my heart grows by the minuet
    ..As i realize this is a place that i've built
    my own personal hell, made to torment me forever

    i raise my tear streaked face and wacth the faces become clear
    i've built this town from the ground to the homes
    i've filled it with my sorrows and the people who caused them
    Left here to dwell forever in my personally made hell

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    angel33614 commented on A dark new place

    05-03-2010

    the imagrey your words create are soo real and vibrant that I feel I am walking down the streets as the words flow from your heart... the emotions and pain are so raw and blackened with the darkness of the night that I feel the chills of the cold to the very core of my soul. Great poem! This place you call hell is all too familar, many live in such places. sad thing is most don't even know they are there... such pain, such torment, such sadness. We often create prisions of pain within, places that are hidden from the rest of the worlf, dark in the shadows, cold in the midst of the night. yet familar and comforting in a weird way, we feel that being hidden as such we can shield ourselves from the pain of the world, protect out hearts from the knives of reality. I have heard of people creating rooms, even old houses to hide thier pain and memories away, never have I heard of someone creating a whole town... how deep you pain must run, how sepateted you must feel... the village is dying because it it made of the past, in each house, behind each door lies a memory of the forgotten past. cold and dark is this town because it is slowly rotting away in the dark corners of your mind. In coming to the realization of your pain and torment, you have opened the door to the prison of your mind, question is do you walk through or stay in the dying town??? awesome poem!!! purity of the soul...
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    UntouchedSoul

    05/09/2010

    Thanks I'm glad that you can see urself thru my words, it is so much easier for most id say, to builds walls to keep everything locked away for fear of hurting ourselves and fear of burdening others, also to hide them from the world, ashamed of looking weak in others eyes. thats a great question, does one walk thru the door to something unknown to them or to stay in the place so familiar, one can only dwell for so long, but how do we know when its time to turn our backs on the only thing we've know.

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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