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Laura Breidenthal. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.
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Time's Loving Deceit
Anger flies with swift wings
As tedious pleas for more time reverberate through his mind
He is the servant of Time- yet takes the blame
When her clawed hand unwinds the clock
He, the sovereign of the dark, the one and only truth!
Is at the front of the onslaught of screams
He moves soundlessly, a shadow in the world
Tormented whispers scattering around him
Fear spreading wildfires' shrill promise
Mercy, a withering carcass in a crude burial
He became Hope's last regret
When he became the prince of darkness,
Forgoing all he once was, and all he could have been
When he sailed away from home, his love for Time burned
He had loved her, caressing her supple frame
Faithfully staying by her side,
And Time managed to wrap her cruel talons
Around his frozen heart
Dwindling him down to nothing more, than abject self-loathing
And she trapped him within her bondage, for eternity
Now he wanders, over and over again in his servitude
A trapped guardian of the dark
The fog horn groaned its complaint of “too.late”
Under darkened sea that once birthed horizon
And Hark! a maelstrom of black ink
Behold its terrific evil and terror!
A swirling whirlpool announcing you-have-been-fooled
And the cries of fright forever ruled
Scream in delight—“He suffers our fate…in pain we celebrate!”
He no longer looked along the swirls in terror
But was now part of its ferocious cycle
Tears mixing with the agonizing laughter
Amidst salty moans and tepid sweat
Soon… exhausted by the chaos… he sank into a most foggy pit
Ashamed, naked, barren of all past wit
A cowardly frame, shivering in unknown terrain
Inside a place where Time is gone….
But always looming in the brain….
As the errant fogs lift,
The grizzled trees’ feet curl in sensuous fervor of the cold
He envies e’en the trees, with heartless relish of their misty exhalations
Under shuttery breath he no longer truly breathes, … he sighs…
Might I never reach the heights of even the mel-lowed fog?
Shall I burn upon the dead leaves, rising only to fall?
From that day forward,
He wandered blindly
Both loving and loathing pulsing tempos of silence
“I’m still in love…” He whispers softly. “Oh how I am in love…”
The dark that once befriended him almost smiles now…
…then why do I feel so alone?
The wind blows in almost an unnerving jeer
A cool wisp enunciating Time’s uncouth rejection
For she loved no one, yet all
Loving with a cruel wish to watch the other fall
How many has she taken, he would never know
For in shadow comes confusion and woe
—and the voices he hears do not sound of his kind
But who am I? What am I?
A slave in Time’s forever grind…
A very special collaboration with Rebecca Larkin