Empty Worlds

A Poem by The Hampstead Poet

Gray, empty shadows cross halls and pour on to the floors

Like so many colourless tears with empty words, unspoken

But you will never hear the pitiful weeping of these tears

Thy spirit hath escaped, this house thy brittle shell now broken

And echoes slash the sacred silence laid across this house

Every shaking step I make falls wavering on worn wood

These room, once lit so brightly by the mirage of happiness

The light hath spilled and drained away from the hollow misunderstood

But now, with lips numbed far beyond ringing curses in my ears

And haze, like smoke, too deep to breath or ever cast a care

Upon the blazing hearth that has dissolved my world in smoke

These tools of life, now mementos too precious to touch or tear

But rippling darkness tricks my eyes and bends unto my will

And was it not I’d seen you just moments, full smile in bloom?

So many questions, I’d address, to that once solid figure

But now these questions echo only to the hollow room

And knowing now, forever my bones encumbered by this

The weight and aching pain, ill temperament eternally endowed

For never again without deep guilt shall light find my shadowed face

Without the tainted memories, of you exiled from now

But what worth? Are these cheap tears to flow across my face?

And why does my futile heart still beat now that the world has stopped

For if the fire that destroyed so much of my existence

Did reach my heart no more in soul would pain ever develop

The raging sea must suffer so, to be eternally endowed

With such passion of anger, and such grief as so to howl

Eternally, sentenced to thrash against’s life’s mortal bonds

And rage against the call of night, the raven and the owl

But no sound could do justice to the shredding, endless pain

That rips through my entire core with guilt, without forgiveness

And pain so much to cloud my vision and stop beat of my soul

And useless are these tears like bloodied, tattered wedding dress

I thought I knew of pain and joy, of fiery, intense emotion

I thought I knew the bounds of existence within this world

I thought I’d known a love of life, I’d thought I’d had a purpose

But ripped away through heart and blood my anchor vanishes

For crippled, now am I for I shall never breathe a breath

Not laden with the anguish and the whispering of death

© 2014 The Hampstead Poet

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Reviews

TheCreatore

Phew, that was intense. I like the intricate style of your writing, although I would probably have to read it a couple times to really get it, for it was rather hard to follow. The last two stanzas are perfect though. I'd love to see a revision of this.