This poem is set in the Victorian Era with a dark/supernatural twist to it. I use to love playing my clarinet, but my anxiety and depression took that away from me.
The cobwebbed concert hall is packed.
Closed behind red blood satin curtains,
Spiders creep under the wooden floors that creek;
The stage lights burning my face.
I am clothed in a ball gown of emerald green,
My hands veiled with black lace.
My clarinet lies on my lap,
Fingers set into polished keys.
I close my eyes,
Ghosts haunt the audience;
I can feel them breathing on my neck.
I snap my vision to the balcony
Where secrets are being shared,
But no spirits.
The maestro raises his baton and conducts.
1.2.3.4
With every flick of his stick,
A bat presents himself.
The sound of my clarinet fills every crack of the room
With my opening solo;
Notes revolving around me.
A bright clear light shines
From the back of the room.
Dots and lines on the music sheets
Begin to blur.
Vanilla skin on my hands and fingers
Painfully tear apart,
Leaving only bone.
A man cloaked in a black cape
And white mask, snatch me;
A noose now around my neck.
My mouth becomes covered
With is grimy hands.
He drags me to the dungeon,
For now all I have left to love is the Phantom.
I really liked this poem it flowed so well and was very dark and mysterious. This kind of makes me think of another poem I read on my favorite website under world tales magazine. You are a very talented writer I look forward to reading more of your work.
I really liked this poem it flowed so well and was very dark and mysterious. This kind of makes me think of another poem I read on my favorite website under world tales magazine. You are a very talented writer I look forward to reading more of your work.
I got the sense of growing and crippling depression as you move from one stanza to the next. It is amazing how depression can get a grip on you and little by little, all the things you once loved disappear. I understand this as an artist and a writer.. there are times I can do neither for my depression. I love the antiquity of this poem and the reference to the Phantom of the Opera? at least that is what I gathered. Excellent work.
This was a poem full of great imagery. It had me trying to read faster and faster. It also has an old feel to it which I love. This is a great dark work of art.
I am thirty years old. I'm dealing with a mood disorder/depression, anxiety, an eating disorder, borderline personality disorder, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts. I love writing. and most of my works.. more..