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- 12/23/2011
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Piece by Piece - 3. Shroud of Darkness
I don't know why I wrote this all I know is I did, yet the feelings this poem takes from my should be the feeling the poem gives to you. :)
The bright colours and beautiful noises have filled my life since my birth,
It’s always been so amazing, a fun and terrific experience living on this earth.
But one day I woke up, it was pitch dark I could see nothing.
But one day I woke up, it was pitch dark I could see nothing.
The darkness covered me like a shroud,
Its warm embrace holding me down to where I was.
Slowly, I grew to love the darkness and with the love grew vision.
Slowly, I grew to love the darkness and with the love grew vision.
In the dark in which people were navigating blindly with their hands in front to brace their fall,
I could see as if it was as bright as day.
Yet with vision came pain and responsibility.
I saw peoples falls and took the drop before they could.
Yet with vision came pain and responsibility.
I saw peoples falls and took the drop before they could.
Alas even if I help people along in the dark,
They can not tell who took it for them as the shroud of blackness covered my features.
It was a blessing when the colours started showing through the darkness,
It was a blessing when the colours started showing through the darkness,
yet it was too blinding to make my way towards it.
Turning on my heel I chose to live in the darkness,
Turning on my heel I chose to live in the darkness,
never to see the colours and their beauty ever again.
I sold my life for others.
No clue why,
I sold my life for others.
No clue why,
only that in the dark in which only I could see in,
I felt,
No,
I feel immense comfort and warmth.
The lack of colours contain they’re own beauty and wonder.
There are so many wonders in both worlds,
The lack of colours contain they’re own beauty and wonder.
There are so many wonders in both worlds,
Yet I am the only one who sees in such a dark place.
Sometimes the cold embraces me and takes a hold of me,
Sometimes the cold embraces me and takes a hold of me,
Clawing me lower in to the darkness of which I gave my life too.
Maybe one day someone else will see the through the dark too,
Maybe one day someone else will see the through the dark too,
Seeing the beauty of it all and how it can warm and consume you.
Controlling, abusing and using you.
Controlling, abusing and using you.
Yet all the while loving, warming and caring for you.
The colours are amazingly beautiful,
yet the darkness’s beauty entrances you and carries you away never to return to whence you came.
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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