Nefarious

Standing right in front of me… appearing normal �" one glance and he proceeds to me down the dark path in which he travels… deep into the depths he suffers.

A tar pit of suffrage that even the coldest of hearts can feel… I know the demons that dwell in the vast darkness �" I know the gathering of voices that speak with him at such a time… for I have given my heart to his tragedy my soul to his cause.

I seek for a greater understanding thus I am more perplexed. Within the inter-working of a clockwork mind, I dwell. As an empathetic person, a waterfall of tears induce anger within him… yet, how do I close the valve when the cycle is not yet complete?

Standing beside him, I drown alone… for he sees not the shelter of my heart �" the apathy of his agony.

For, in some respects, I am him. I seek to satisfy my hunger with his repression. I disengage the outer world, for I am alone within his chaos. Utterly intrigued by his magniloquence… a foreign object to which is thrown in the face of a dying heart.

The stream of deceptions grow deep… for he seeks a rhythmic flow of sorrow. Yet, the tears anger him, to such a degree that regret is all that consumes.

Standing beside him, I feel unknown and un-soothed… incapable of applicable solutions to fight the malignant cancer filling his being. How does one stand so proud while subduing his prey? A creature of habit, a fire of fuel… beyond that of an infuriated mother nature. How do we calm the beast, when the calm has been laid to rest?

Blinded by an open-ended rage, no one can see the anguish the other is facing. How? How … the resolve is far from reach �" even at the maximum capacity of stretch, there is no grasp on the unprotected soul. You cannot reach me now, I am too far gone… he sifts through the events that led up to this point and in grander he lays down the law of blame and self-righteousness.

She stands beside him, alone, paralyzed by the water flowing from her cheeks. We have no wave of content �" simply spoken �" his name is pride. Letting go is too excruciating and regrets are all too common.

In at long last he grabs her mournful attention with more torment �" placing pride aside, sacrifices must be made �" her mirror is a blur and her mind engulfs her heart. Time to swallow before creatures ingest the innocent; what will be left of the flood that has finally dried with words on page? Her outlet a keyboard �" she reaches for his love �" the distance is seemingly an impossible feat, however, at this point �" her exhaustion is to be tossed out the window. For he is all that stands between them �"

At long last, she fuels herself in guilt and proceeds to begin the recoil; unwinding the knots that is her stomach, she receives an un-reciprocated hug �" a pity, for this warm moment, wasted standing in the cold and poisonous prison of his mind. 

Reviews

[InspiredHope]

Dear InnerSpirit,

One cannot simply put a 'review on these beautiful words that stem from the farthest recesses of the soul. This is not a poem; this is a work of emotion. I applaud you for this feat of accomplishment and for bringing your words to Life.

I have missed your Poetry and am thankful to see you writing once again. You are an inspiration and bring hope when others read them. I should know... for I am one of them.

Truly,
Inspired Hope

[Ovi-Odiete]

This is truly a mysterious and beautiful piece.