IT

Here I was, moping away,

To my nightly enclosure of thoughts;

Within this cave so grim, I daresay,

Where nocturnal chirps hath rot;

 

Right thro’ to the 11^th hour;

Whence sleep once sung of a kill;

Bidding me farewell to be devoured,

For in the past came dreams of quite the thrill!

 

There came an awful RAT-A-TAT-TAT!

Yet ‘twas not at my door!

Nothing I did then came a second rap;

Now well-nigh tender, my head swelled all the more!

 

Eyes shut and into my chair, melted I;

Ponderous of the posed delirium;

Of the what and the who and the why,

‘Tis when I grasped of a thing, indeed, an’ IT was most handsome!

 

Neither having form nor shape this IT;

How handsome IT was, must be deciphered;

And shalt I? Shut-eyed? Soulless, nailed and lit?

Speak of Praise when I am but a cankerous dastard?

 

Nay! IT shall be myne alone!

No other spirit shall smile upon IT!

For me and me and me and none else to behold!

IT is all I need, all else will become starlit…

 

Of a Kingdom I shall never own.

 

 

 

-Leah

Reviews

[Brandon S. Whitten]

Wonderful read. Still comprehending the beauty of the words. I thought of Poe, one of my favorite writer's.

[jennifer little]

great job keep up the good work ....