• Passion


    The fog comes in slowly, walking it's cold misty fingers across the ground and skating across my skin.
    It weaves it's way through my clothing and into my blood, silently stealing my breath and creating havoc with my senses.
    The thief that creats the pleasant, but deadly distraction to the willing and ignorant soul, it slithers into the depths of the windows of my being and out again without cause.
    If but one night alone is all I'm given, and all I recieve, I should gladly take it, for another may not withstand.
    I cannot see into the darkness, for it is hidden from me in more than one way. It soothes me, yet I am scorched from the silence.
    I can no more hear myself breathe than a blind man can see the twilight of stars in the night sky.

    Looking into the vast emptiness, I see now why the Sun has left this hallow existance. Is it my damnation to walk the world in solitude? Is it my everlasting sentence to become one with the shadows? To never again feel the beams of morning rays caress my face?

    This is my curse, and my blessing. To crave an eternal life of isolated essence, to be one with the complexion of my desires?
    I no longer live, yet am not yet dead. I have life in it's barest form crwling beneath my skin. I am a walking phantom, plagued with the entity of unrest.

    Poem Comments


    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    SuperDan commented on Phantom


    Very descriptive and very sad. I enjoyed it though

    SuSpence commented on Phantom


    I agree, the beginning had the hook in me from the start. I love the expressiveness showed in this. The passion really comes across in your words, beautiful poetic verse and use of metaphors, i enjoyed immensely. 'Looking into the vast emptiness, I see now why the Sun has left this hallow existance' I loved lines like this ,which was like almost every line. Just filled with poetry, really. And I liked the ending, a bit sad, but still a ray of hope, as sometimes all we have left to cling to is hope. Very good write bj! ~Spence

    Artie commented on Phantom


    This is a great piece! I love the way you started it. I got the feeling of the fog slowly tightening it's grip on me - 10 from me

    BikemanRJ commented on Phantom


    This should be a horror movie or you should expand on this and develop it into a book. This is really a graphic read and it draws you in close and makes you become a part of it. But the sun is now up and its rays of light have overcome the darkness and it has been driven away by the dawn of a new day when all things become brand new. This is a very good poem indeed. Had fun commenting on it definitely a 10 in my book. God Bless BikemanRJ

    lonewolf162 commented on Phantom


    howa this is so good i saw it thru u dang i love your work keep it up

    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.

    bjenkins’s Poems (16)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    A Siren's Call 2
    The Dark 2
    Stupid Mistakes 2
    Mother of Us All 0
    Running Shoes 0
    Words of Foreboding (Part Two) 1
    Words of Foreboding (Part One) 1
    Gleaming Pillars 5
    The Barn 4
    Admonishments 1
    Crimson Kisses 3
    Fae Folk 4
    Reflections 2
    The Whispers of Time 11
    My Time Away... 2
    Phantom 10