Kelsey Graves Poet Narrative

Knox'D Out

It was early, 
The solemn, silent sunrise wrought its
Rays across the untamed land like a
Shorn-clad Delilah.
Dew glistened the foliage
Like undefiled razer blades nestled
Within a mortar's payload.

Morning haze,
Suggestively seductive in its 
Sureness of the divine destiny
Lingered, a dwelling
Companion of aimless hope,
Brightly darkening the path
Juxtaposed by the future.

Treachery,
And the spoiled, sour smell of her exploits
Permeated the dawn hour like
A whore's flatulence
Leaving me sick with fear.
What deeply dark insidious ideas
Gnawed at the surfaces of truth?

Terrified,
I observed the sallow, sickly sky
Defy the natural laws of a
Thousand, million æons.
The once proud, brilliant sun
Had ceased its solemn western path
And had set its course due east.

I heard screams.
Shrill, spearing sounds drilling to my core.
Primal agony no beast of the earth
Should be forced to bear.
As I looked to console
This poor miserable creature I found
The sounds were coming from me.

I looked east
And was sickened by the sight I saw.
It was the succubus, Treachery
Shadowing the light 
And destroying the path
That the sun used to blaze through every day
As the star let it happen.

Now I mourn
The loss of the slowly sinking sun,
The brilliant warmth it brought to my life
And the growth we shared.
Sitting in the dark,
Perched atop my mountain, I still hope
He remembers how he shined.

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