And all the saints were dead

They left as dusk fell
but found no seclusion in
the darkness
because the electric lights
filled up the emptiness
and left them dazed, unaware
of the stars gleaming far above
their beds


Who knew
that the time would come
when we might fall down to our knees
praying softly to the
ghosts and spirits of this
degenerated world

Did we find redemption in those whispered
secrets, passing over
the Underworld


They left as the dawn approached
leaving dust behind
and entrails
scattered over crumbling pavement
with teardrops on their fingertips,
sweeping
against the fragile skin of
      sedementary mindscapes


I only wished for something less than
what I saw, what I felt as
the hands were turned
back and molded into
unrelenting sorrows

Were yesterdays eating at those broken bones?

In places where only I had feared to tread, we held
candles in the moonlight, with dim lit eyes and
upturned faces, the cold wind
biting against flesh, burrowing deep
        into our spirits

I felt the smoke like liquid ash,
 turning and unfurling,
with simple strokes and gestures
You led me
    into the pasture, your milky skin bathed
with romance and moon kissed embellishments


Yes, they left us as the world fell
down into the depths
      of uncertainty
cruel and apathetic
to the burning woes
and curtained echoes

Their tears dropped into the sand leaving
hollow imprints for us to
ponder

Once again, we'll find that we truly are
alone
and they have left us to our sins

Author's Note

This came with a sense of doom. Tell me how you percieve it

Reviews

[OutsideSyntax]

This is a mindblowing and extremely vivid write... a vague impression I would have of it is - A sense of brutal disillusionment shared with phantoms of the illusions past... drawn out into what would seem like an eternity in a few short moments of being hopelessly aware, in one last grim attempt at clinging to the things we take for granted in our day to day life with all that ballast of misconceived corporealness, all the while collapsing into the oblivion of an inscrutable, unrelenting and impersonal reality. Just my two cents ;) Definately a very mentally adept write.

[YouoweYoupay]

Before I talk about the core and meaning. Um, your language has to be recognized first as strong and enchanting. The flow is almost flawless and you speak to me of something I can sense and feel and painfully relate to. We all need guidance, a torch at our side. We don't need to see it to know it. We just need to feel the pat of a hand on our backs near shores of serenity or the rebuke before the mistaken, thorny road. Have you ever wondered if God had sighed a breath of spirit into each of us because He was lonely in a vast silent nothingness? Have you ever wondered if he truly does love us and wishes us to follow the lead of white light into a beautiful garden? Or is it just curiousity to see how many fall into echoless pits...like a million stars shaken by the roaring sky, and obediently descending and scattering into omnious gravity? Your work is distinguished and it has its own atmosphere and intelligence. Thank you for sharing. I will be reading you. 90,

[Emily Quinn]

This is a very strong poem with vivid imagery of accepted sorrows, the flat line of society. As I was reading, I heard the voice of Allen Ginsberg in my head speaking each carefully thought out verse....only less vulgar. I loved this, beautiful work friend.

[tynamite]

This is epic. It reminds me of some holocaust ethnic cleansing kind of thing. That there being this mass set of people who are killing loads of people and winning. Thousands of people being killed, and the poem being told with the view of someone who escaped death saying, "Did I really think I could win this losing battle?"

To me, I see the poem being told from the voice of someone, looking at the destruction, outraged and crying into the past at the prospected life robbed from him, looking at what was left behind.

I'm sure this poem can apply to things happening in the world right now. I've favourited it.

[ORION27]

I see a picture painted with a sense of sub-concious awareness to torment in the mind of the speaker. A sense of totality, that we are doomed one way or the other. I get the feeling that the speaker believes that they are damned reguardless of what they do in this life, i see an unjustified feeling of a tortured soul reaching out for reassurance of an afterlife or a life at all.

[Clockwork]

I perceive this as a reflection upon the aftermath of abandonment. It is almost as if some of the saints you describe have been murdered while others fled. I like how you question the ideals passed on by the saints in line stanza three. It further colors their role in reference to the world which has been left behind.

[Alyssa Dufresne]

Love it, love it, love it.

The imagery is amazing, for one. I can actually picture it and walk with the speaker.

For me, it did give a small sense of doom, but the overall effect was one more of dark irony and satire mixed with sadness.

And kudos for the title.

[Undying Glory]

wow creepy work, this was very well-written as a poem. i do like the whole fantasy idea of a poem since i could never really write one like that, but i think (please correct me if i'm wrong) that this really relates to our world, especially these lines:
"Once again, we'll find that we truly are
alone
and they have left us to our sins"
like so many alleged heroes who refused to stay and fight. brilliant work!

[Marie Harrison]

I felt myself tense up more and more as I read this piece. It's very good though. It's a gripping read to me.

[sarah]

well that was dark! great work!! the darkest poems are the best!

[Rikkevi Rue]

I perceive it as a halting and flowing tug-o-war on my emotions. Sorrow that they have left, remorse that somehow you (even me by the end as i was drawn in and felt as if you were writing about me) hadn't succeeded or measured up in some way, passion over the allusion to romance...elated yet dreadful over the sense of being involved in something that was morbid yet at the same time gripping...

your writing teleports me to other places and times...awesome writing my dear!