Questioning the Night

Sinking into darkness as it rises into life.
Needing just a gentle touch amid the endless strife.
From his seed a darkness grew, expanding.
Evil dreams of blasphemy replaced
the peace of sleep he used to know.
The urge to breathe was there,
and yet he couldn't find the air
amid the great restrictions in his chest.
Why was it he'd become this awful mess...?

Over-wound, the tension reigned supreme.
The Timex on his wrist had spit up
all his long-time dreams. For he never
could afford the kind of life he chose
to lead. He'd always only let it all go on.
As if his life were being spun by someone
other than himself. Following the rules,
he stumbled over all her shoes.

Heading for the door, he tripped
and only found the floor. His lover waited,
oh so far away. While all his nights and days
were weighted down within a feel of social duty.
He couldn't stand to live within his moods,
not anymore. If only he could make it
through the door before she woke again.
Desperate, the measures taken.
Pain increased, his heart forsaken.

Pressure. All the pressure was too much
for him to bear. Especially in his state
of all alone. Nothing like the image
of the lone wolf once imagined to be him.
Instead, an aching loneliness was born within
the emptiness he'd chosen to create.
Evil dwelled where heroes dared not go.
He had arrived. The void was real.
Filled with all the terrors of his youth.

No hand to hold. No mother's arms
to soothe the nightmare visions.
For he'd condemned the very essence
of her love. Where once she'd stood above,
now all the skies were weeping endlessly
in him. Sinking into muddy puddles.
Drying in cracked, earthen riddles.
Nothing was for sure. Not anymore.

Where once he'd been twice blessed,
now only misery was left as his companion.
Voices bleeding deep into his mind.
Crying out with feelings, ever blind.
Where once imagination failed, now
gruesome images prevailed. And he
was lost within an awesome fear
of costly imagery.

And he wondered how he'd come to be
just there. And where on earth his there
might yet abide. When even hereviled the nature
of his kind. What had gone wrong...?
He'd planned it all so long ago.
So intimately real. Then all the others
came along, and all his songs were left unsung.
The stage he'd played upon had been
dissembled. The fans had all gone home.
No longer pleased by all the glitter
of his one-man show.

He couldn't find the following he'd lost.
Without them, he would never find a way
to pay the cost of his endurance.
He looked into the mirror, no longer
recognizing what he saw. A head,
a face - grown old before its time.
When it was time he'd always thought
he could control. Blurry still, the images
caught in the corner of his eyes, were
all too very real.

The lover that he'd left behind.
Her eyes were shining there.
Never quite within his tunnel vision.
A circular incision had been made
by his own mind. Still willing that
she be left far behind his grand
endeavors. And yet, somehow,
she still consumed his soul.

And yet, he'd left her there, by his own choices.
As he sank into a darkness rising into his own life.
Another string of lovers could not fill his emptiness.
For from his barren seed a darkness grew, expanding.
Evil dreams of blasphemy replaced
the peace of sleep he used to know.
The urge to breathe was there,
and yet he couldn't find the air
amid the great restrictions in his chest.
Why was it he'd become this awful mess...?

Questioning the night, a darkness answered.
Even as his spirit took to flight...

? Michaelette ?

11/15/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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