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Consequence of a Certain Demise

I. One week to the day, His beloved was taken away. Within the confines of their edifice He told himself, I can’t go on like this. Numbly, at his sides, he clenched his fists; While contemplating, at that very moment, to slit his wrists. He extracted a knife from a kitchen drawer And sat down cross-legged on the linoleum floor. On the first attempt he hesitated and it hurt like hell, The blade slipped from his grip and to the ground it fell. Though the wound botched and shallow it did the deed; Oh so very quickly he did bleed. Blood coursed out of him pooling about on the floor. Fleetingly he thought, in this world I’ll be no more. With light giving way to darkness, the end was near. Yet, with her in his thoughts, there was no fear. Death being on him in any second, He knew for sure, when it arrived, he’d be in her presence II. Suddenly, he was jolted awake in a peculiar place, Awakened to the stare of an unfamiliar face. Then he took notice to millions of legs carrying bodies about. At that very moment he began to shout, “What is this place and why am I here?” Not a single person seemed to take notice or hear; They all just scooted and shuffled around. I’m going to find out what’s going on here he was bound. He got to his feet and decided to head west; Though, with the sun straight overhead, it’d be a guess at best. Standing still for some time to plot the course of the sun, He decided it had moved absolutely none. Awestruck and questioning, Where am I at and how can this be? It seemed, to him, to be a complete impossibility. As his blurred vision clarified, he scanned the terrain And the sight he caught filled him with horrified disdain. Several unscaleable mountains, on three sides, flanked him, Leaving the only other route blocked by a bottomless chasm. Then he took notice to the innumerous faces’ expressions; They all had the same look of immortal depression, Brought on by shambling about aimlessly for eternity. He knew, without a doubt, he’d eventually give in to the same conformity. Suddenly, a notion came to his head: He thought, am I alive or dead? Or is this some kind of laboratory? No, he told himself, this is purgatory!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 12/14/2012 3:51:00 AM
Like your style Casey...enjoyed reading your poems tonight. Keep writing - you have a gift for poetry - one i hope you will continue to share....Shaz
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Casey Strong
Date: 12/14/2012 1:52:00 PM
Thank you Shaz. I like to write but don’t consider myself to be much of a poet; just an amateur who gets the occasional idea and weaves together a poem from it. As long as my fingers can continue to tap away at the keyboard I’ll continue to share.

Book: Shattered Sighs