Eldritch Hysterical Annihilation Syndrome
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Eldritch Hysterical Annihilation Syndrome
Daniel Henry Rodgers
Welcome to the 5th and final Halloween poem for 2024. Each one had more dramatic dialogues and storylines this season, and I hope you have enjoyed the journey. This one deals with real-life syndrome, and I think you will get it as the story unfolds.
"In the recesses of our subconscious minds, where innocence falters and nightmares take root, we confront the eldritch truths that shape our existence." Daniel Henry Rodgers
=======================
I walk o u t...
I am lost in unapproachable light—a spectral broth
I am tasting the screaming silence—the archetypal observer
dissects my essence-fossil Passion
a seismic rupture between life/death/rebirth
gnaws at my marrow This dilemma-kudzu
coils tight, constricting tomorrow's breath
Death stalks me, a shadow with obsidian fangs
Sin's fruit—a parasitic putrefaction—
erupts in my gut
I am spewing maggot-guilt crawls through my veins
I am the battlefield where body and soul,
once conjoined redwoods,
splinter and disintegrate—
a forest-demise festering in eternal night
I am left to sweetly rot amidst the remnants
B e n e a t h
incomprehensible maws of time
Venus flytraps gnash at my fleeing heels
I am stumbling on fate's toxic exhalation
each second: a funeral elegy
I am that pestilent being—a mosquito
to bioluminescent decay—
writhing in fetid mangrove darkness smells of dread
beyond redemption or shame
This is my behavior: an inferno of shattered commandments
incinerating the Decalogue to ash
this is damnation's feast prepared
O wretched spirit I don this stigmata husk
like strangler fig—(a garment defiled)
each root a sin-tendril swelling
I birth chasms eruptive rifts spreading wide
where each reflection morphs into abomination—
a funhouse glacier warping reality from withinside
In Abadan's wasteland my seared conscience
faces the locust swarm; each bite a sin-seed
each wound a godless form
I grapple with the remnants of my existence
I snarl-howl
for lust's thorn-whip flays my back—
the persecutor-persecuted
forever ensnared in siege
Mère des putains
I cradle abomination-saplings
to my withered breast
Each blasphemy-sap
soothes the children of unrest
anthropomorphic gods—vulture-judges—
perch on destiny's dead tree cackling
as I immolate in antinomianism's pyre
uncontrolled and free
This is a Halloween-eternity stretches
into an endless Arctic twilight
this is where no soul-cleanse can purge
the gluttony of my blight
I gorge on despair-demonspawn
for terror's roots twist deeper—
in soil fertilized by acid-tears
I no longer have the strength to weep
the cost is a price I can't afford
I am bound by my own excesses
this existence churns like a tempest
relentless and consuming
Hysterical Annihilation Soteriology—
a doctrine-spore of the insane—
preaches a false hope:
the cruelest nectar-poison
ever to sear my tongue
In this confessional-abattoir
I stand debarked and flayed—
my immortality denied
my fate
forever scourged
Drip
Drip
Drip
the water torture of regret —
Each splash: an eternity-erosion
each ripple: apocalypse
I reach
for salvation's mirage however I grasp only demonwaste air—
as the Stygian-sinkhole yawns wider
devouring my very last prayer
Terror incarnate I metamorphose
into the apex-nightmare I feared
my sanity's last leaf—a noose
reality clear-cut and seared
the witness-witnessed
the horror-horrified unite—
in Hysterical Annihilation I dissolve—
a tsunami of primordial fear
As I traverse the threshold I carry my candy
and my curse
trembling in frost-bitten hands
the horrors of the night cling to me
like spectral tendrils
mom and dad on the couch
This is their world bathed in flickering blue
their faces—:
This is their ignorance: masks of normalcy—
concealing terrors
they never knew
"How was trick-or-treating?" they inquire
voices echoing from a hollow void
their eyes
vacant mirrors—reflect the screen
where cinematic violence cavorts
I mumble "Fine"
choking on the lie—
thick as cemetery loam while visions
of dreadlands roil within me
The first Purge plays on—a pale shadow
of my mind's eldritch creation
I stand P e T r I f I e D
caught between two realms of DaM naTioN
one foot in childhood's dying light
one in eldritch fears
my costume is a flimsy veil 'tween
innocence and sears
"Come sit with us" Dad pats the couch
oblivious to the tightening-tendrils
that slither in my wake
mom proffers popcorn—
like kernels like maggots to my eyes—
each crunch an echo of universe-devouring cries
I nestle between them seeking warmth;
it can't penetrate the cold glacial horror
now etched in my marrow
their laughter at on-screen chaos rings discordant and alien
while inside my soul undergoes
a terrifying irreversible MeT aMorph OsiS
In the emanation of their mirth I discern
the careworn lines etched on their brows
the weight of unshed fears beneath
the veneer of mundane joys
they'll never fathom
the landscapes of desolation I've traversed—
(because they remain blissfully unaware) —
the eldritch truths that leave me cursed
I am of twelve-years
a baby girl
No LonGeR!
I am ancient in my horror forever remaining
I am indelibly marked by this night
Of existential anguish
As I cast a glance at Mom
Her eyes flicker with concern
A fleeting shadow
And dad's comforting hand feels leaden
However I recognize that this is their world a fragile facade
Each smile a shield against the encroaching AP Par I Tion
As I ascend the final steps to bed
Where night terrors lie and wait
Their love, a delicate tether, pulls me back from the precipice
Yet darkness looms ever closer
An inescapable wraith
Shrouding my soul in its frigid oblivion
I catch glimpse of their world, so normal so distant
A flicker of light devoured by the Wyrm's abyss
In unapproachable silence
I am the shattered witness
I am vivisected, forever ensnared
In the nightmares I've yet to conjure
But must inevitably confront
[The poem ends here but the page continues...]
...or does it?
Bid farewell to the inked parchment,
But you'll never unlearn what you've B e CoM e
Copyright © Daniel Henry Rodgers | Year Posted 2024
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