Night Whispers

The following are poems I have written in various times of despair, times of growth, and times of healing.

Deceived

I’ve got a chill that does not thrill but burns right down to my core…

Like a corridor it goes on and on without end it does not twist it does not bend just follows thru and thru like an arrow staying true but without truth I find my mind it grinds with suspicion and fear until nothing is clear but rather becomes an eruption of psychological corruption so that this chill…it does not keep still rather it squirms about like snakes and worms twisting my thoughts into confused knots and the chaos does cease for it only wants release but release I must deny it for my heart is noncompliant in its ache and I am afraid that I may break…

Wasted breath naught but death waiting to consume me

Ever-searching for the passion, never to assume me

Once believed, was deceived now my world is asunder

To the depths, my last breaths longing to thunder

Will the light return?

Will the fire once more burn?

Or will I fade away?

Forsaken

There is a whisper,

Uncertain and shaken,

Which boils from the depths

Of the forsaken.

Shadows

Shadows, those ever-present creatures

Dance upon the wall with misrepresented features

Whispers of phantoms, demons without names

Playing at your back with their enigmatic games

Creeping up behind you with the vilest of intentions

Incapable of clinging to your strict dimensions

Shrugging off into the night, the sea of concealed fiends

Plotting and waiting for the moment and the means

And while you slumber in your bed, coalesces about your head

Drawing your breath from your chest and edging you closer to your death

Until the first rays of dawn appear and scatter them from yon to near

The Warrior

The warrior walks with heavy legs

Weary from the fight

But triumph echoes in his mind

As he dances through the night

He and his people bravely fought

For freedom and for life

And though there were many deaths

They’d victored the horrid strife

The Black Leopard

She’s black of fur

And keen of eye

Everstalking

Queen of night

Upon her tree limb

Silently perched

She haunts the prey

For which she’d searched

The doe creeps closer

To the leopard’s tree

Unaware

Of her destiny

Rigid now

Muscles tight

As she readies

For the fight

If only…

Two little words, so unassuming

Behind them, profound regret is looming -

Things unsaid, actions not taken,

Paths unchanged, bright hopes shaken,

Angry remarks, pain inflicted,

Poor decisions, splendor rescinded.

Such remarkable loss to saddle on a petite expression,

There is insurmountable despair in in their reflection.

Behind these dispiriting words, many will frantically hide

But you can grow immensely when you set them aside.

Poems are copyright protected ©Rebecca Taylor 1996-2013