Bound in Discomfort


  • Desmotti
  • The wraith is but sadness in mortal form. It haunts to hunt, and hunts to feed. It cannot feed on any emotion. This is its pain. for emotion is not segregated it is fealt, and to feel is warmth.

Bound in Discomfort

I cannot wander I'm bound to here
I cannot think to think brings fear
The stink of it that wanders lost
The cold of space reflected frost

I cannot breathe...and none can help
I cannot one can help
I cannot dream...the nightmares bells
The chimes hold in the shades of hell

Screammmmm out in a mind of tatters
Screammmmmm out…does it even matter
Race up forever through thoughts that scatter
Race up your mindless, lifeless ladders

Screammmmm out and maybe the fear
Will eventually hear the sound of the tears
As is drops into pools of fading grey...
Your sadness pools where memories fade

The chimes are the sounds that pierce your mind...
My soul is charged I’ve given up mine
In your pursuit of a crown you disgust your reflection
You hide in the shadows avoiding detection

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DeepEclipse commented on Bound in Discomfort


I was sure I commented to this...? Reguardless......... To me it spills forth as a battle, between one's desire to honorably earn and one's own artificial delusional granduer. Ripping away the regal coverings of pride and staring at one's own bare surroundings. I love how this piece searches for a sincere form of confidence. Relentlessly....



Thank you is the madness of delusional desire that has us empty our pockets that hold the trinkets that are our experiences...most of them when we look them over... seem very trivial, and less bright then once thought...possibly unworthy of our life gift given us......we must all do better.

Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

Desmotti’s Poems (25)