The Brush of Misery

A poem I wrote after coming back from a 6 month period, where I had not written anything. This poem is one that I wrote over a year ago.

The Brush of Misery

Misery's fingers tingle your skin;

holding your next hope and savior within.

Its slim, sick, death-like fingers tense;

you continue to run from the dark, now dense.


You are blinded by its poisonous hold;

you think your safe when your body knows the cold.

Teasing and laughing at your stupid mind;

it takes you under and you're, so madly blind.


The saviors are coming, the saviors they are;

now to dig deeper in this tiny little scar.

You've been fooled, you've been tricked, now what?

You may head for safety again, but you know in your gut.


The tiny little voices prick at your head;

and laugh because your mistake made you as good as dead.

Soon you will be handed over to death and dark;

as Misery makes its final mark.


It takes you and your lost to all;

you can't run walk, limp, not even crawl.

Nothing surrounds you, even your mind had everything lost.

You think all this was for what cost?

Don't let misery take you under;

Be the one to steal its thunder.

Author's Note

If there are any grammatical errors I apologize. Just let me know. Thanks.

Reviews

[Nesh]

It's very visual and the lines really flow well. I thought it was wonderful. The only little thing that bugged me was the fourth line from the last stanza; I think it needed a "of" in there" (as in "You think all *of* this was for what cost?"). Other than that, I thought it was very enjoyable.