The Evolution of a Slyman

My Darkest Day (an old poem)

The Autumn chill sets in;

An eerie silence whispers on the wind;

It doesn’t muffle what’s stirring in my head.

All my thoughts seem grim;

This vast emptiness collapsing in;

A hallow chorus chanting “go into the light.”

The light it fades;

Soaked and stained;

Stained by my darkest days.

Darkness bleeds throughout;

Carried by the brush strokes of doubt;

Does nothing ever comfort the screaming?

Where does it start or end;

This madness, I’m slipping in;

Slightly touched by March’s wicked grin.

The laughter dissipates;

Cloaked and weeping;

Weeping for my darkest days.

The new day, asked me why;

Am I wasting his precious time;

Posing questions only answered in my mind.

Might be better if it fails;

Cause there’s no wind to drive the sails;

Thus I am so tired of waiting to exhale.

My time dissipates;

No one else will wait;

Wait out the dawn on my darkest day.

– T.C. Downey/Beast Xeno 2013

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s