Immolation in the ForestA Poem by Aloysha Giane Vitodetailing that sudden and primal burst of anger, jealousy, and inspiration after a long, brumal depression
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a dark, dreary dream it seems- no fog thicker than it's haze 2 this land is real, it exists- this place has a sign with its name 3 no map on earth has inked to draw the arrows to this maze 4 a garden of eternity, where the rabbits, feral and wolves, tame 5 this place is cloudy, but each whispy haze weighs a metric tonne 6 the crown on each tree and their boughs so far up their trunks 7 they form a cloak, impenetrable that paints it sable against the sun 8 and what little sunlight dies- in the ebon sea, its flare had sunk 9 there is no light here, save for an oil-less lamp yet to be lit 10 an ashless bonfire- wood yet to be gathered and be burnt 11 these pixies have no home other than the cage one carries them in it 12 these fireflies have no light, save for what is suffered and learnt 13 the forest makes pub w****s of those who lose themselves there 14 leches of those thirsty who drink from its streams and creeks 15 they fail and falter and fall on the forest floor, and the bushes wake back to life and stare 16 these are the sentinels of the forest, and it is your surrender they seek 17 skulls and rib cages decorate and hang from the boughs in this forest 18 the beaten trail there is paved with the bones of the pleasant and their tales 19 the lamps are candles stuffed in the skulls of the truthful and honest 20 you walk on these and where the bones stop, you stand on where the last of them failed 21 the night here is neverending, according to whom have endured 22 when it actually ends, all memory of its trees and creeks cease 23 each and every soul that stands, has left footprints here for sure 24 no telling which are the footprints of those, living, lived, or recently deceased 25 this place is cold, the clement light drowned out eons ago 26 it's cruel too, this brumal darkness too tame to kill you 27 it keeps your heart-beating, pounding down on you with layers of snow 28 it makes you forget the clement light, makes you forget the warmth your breath once drew 29 how you get there nobody knows, one wrong step- the forest eats you 30 from the sidewalk, from school to home, into the alleyway, the forest eats you 31 the door between your room and the living room's screams, the forest eats you 32 from the covers of your sheet into the noise of the streets, the forest eats you 33 from the street to an inn, back to the street again, the forest eats you 34 from the light of screen into the darkness of bed, the forest eats you 35 from the concave stomachs and a mountain of debt, the forest eats you 36 the stool between you and a knotted rope, the forest sill eats you 37 and then, skin hard and frozen cold since wandering this grove of a thousand broken lights 38 the crown of the trees recede and the boughs begin to thin towards the opposite pole 39 there is no sun here, other than the immolated torch of your flesh burning bright 40 there is no sun here, other than the immolated phlogiston that combusts at the end of the dark night of the soul © 2019 Aloysha Giane VitoAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on October 18, 2019 Last Updated on October 18, 2019 Tags: dark night, depression, sadness, anxiety, soul, poetry, poem, sacrifice, anger Author
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