Auguste Romain Nyecki Poet Free verse

The Descent into Hell

Depressed,
Heavily intoxicated,
Under the influence of drugs,
After taking anti-anxiety medication,
Barricaded with his dogs,
A gun beneath his chin,
He is ready to cross the threshold.
He refuses to cooperate.
The shop windows are shattered.
Cries erupt.
Curtains are torn down.
The gendarmes have forced open his door.
Handcuffed in the police van,
He longs for a cigarette.
He sees no way out.
He has escaped from the psychiatric hospital.
The flashing blue lights tear through the night.
The sirens plow through the silence.
His gaze passes through the walls,
Without meeting a single face.
Wrists scarred by steel,
A mind shattered by exhaustion,
Memories strike harder
Than rifle butts and van doors.
The dogs howl in the distance,
As if counting the absences of their traumatized master.
The neighbors close their shutters.
Rumors replace his dignity.
In the rearview mirror of the police van,
Years of shipwreck drift by,
Promises reduced to ashes,
Tomorrows without a shore.
The descent into hell pronounces no final verdict.
It merely piles up the wreckage of a shattered life.
And somewhere, behind the uniforms,
Behind the shattered windows,
Behind the anger and the handcuffs,
A breath still remains,
Fragile, almost inaudible,
Refusing to disappear.

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