Laura Breidenthal Poet Free verse

The Harbinger of Doom

I descended the wretched trench of lies with willing defeat,
My heart severed too many times to ever even care
Of what horrors lay beneath

I face the unknown with a corrupt thirst
I have seen these familiar twisted faces, 
And I greed for their ends—for the cease of their cries,
Longing for my vengeful rise
Too long I have felt the devastation of death entwining with my soul,
Too long have I tasted the heat of unimaginable, unbearable downfall

In the torment of screams,
My mind claws in desperation
To silence the never-ending agony,
The burning of unmerciful cataclysm

Claws made of frozen souls grip my own
Reaching in, extracting my life—I rip myself to shreds
I dance the Devil's dance to the song of weeping angels
With the sheltered moon bleeding plagues
Chaos and Havoc play upon my heart

Where have I let myself descend?
To the ends abstracting Happiness, 
To the cruel tail whipping sorrows to Rage,
This madness inflicted sprouted from the Guilt of Failure,
Tell me, why is there no chance for Redemption?
These lashes, these Scars raw in the demons’ presence
Lowered head accepts such torment as deserving 

Rain sears the eyes of the weak,
Faltering trust in the wicked
Their teeth gnashing my flesh, my bones
And sorrow misleads in hopeless promises
When false light brings me to Darkness's sweet embrace

Holding fast to self-loathing
I pierce the veil,
My eyes falling upon the face of Death
Empty Horror returns its gaze to me
Maggots devouring my flesh 
And suddenly the deplorable Madness is me
I, the Devourer of souls
The Harbinger of Doom
Pain and Discourse my companions
I pierce the veil
Only to find misfortune reflected

Holding me, fixedly…Darkness,
Lay me down once more upon your hidden altar
For too long have I let the earth’s Monsters feed on my heart
Too long have I held onto Hope only to watch her fester
Too long… and long enough that my webbed eyes close to the vision of Tomorrow
I clasp the vicious claws with infant hands and wail at the top of my lungs
Cutting into me, all I have ever lived for
My wail exceeds all cries,
For no matter how terrible,
No matter how deafening,
My Misery reigns supreme

-A collaboration with Rebecca Larkin-

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Stephen Kilmer November 9, 2015 at 5:20 PM This is is awesome (a word I never use) poetry. You have distilled your pain in such a beautiful way. I am in awe as usual of your command. Your work is beautiful to behold and frightening to consider. Well done. ~Kilmer~ numero uno fan Laura Breidenthal November 9, 2015 at 6:20 PM My best friend and I are quite intense when we put our minds to the dark side. This was an immensely pleasurable verse to write. Maybe someday we may collaborate. Wouldn't that be awesome? :) ~Laura

Duke Beaufort October 24, 2015 at 8:21 PM Let's be a little less negative (LOL). BTY, you are very good at this. You capture these awful feelings so clearly. This is the suffering I would like to avoid and have others avoid as well. That it why I am against war unless someone comes to my door and tries to kill me. Laura Breidenthal October 24, 2015 at 9:45 PM Becca, my best friend wanted to write something dark and mysterious. So there you have it! -not saying it was all her doing though ;)~Laura

John Fleming October 21, 2015 at 1:33 PM Dark and oppressive, Laura! But compulsive material all the same! I truly enjoyed reading your poem this grey, dismal eve. Nicely done...And my very best regards! :) john P.s A Seven! Laura Breidenthal October 22, 2015 at 12:54 AM John!!! Nice to hear from you my friend! Thank you for stopping by! ~Laura