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Aaron Newham Poem
Why do we fear death?
Yet still long for the solitude it brings?
The solace of the quiet it envelops?
Why should we long for that which would remind us of mortality?
Yet also fear it in the same breath of thought like it is some distant memory we cannot wish for?
Because that would mean we are human and not something immortal?
Why should I both fear and long for something morbidly beautiful in how it takes and gives in the same way?
So, I ask again,
Why do we fear death?
Copyright © Aaron Newham | Year Posted 2025
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Aaron Newham Poem
I was always distant.
I wasn't entirely human, I don't think I ever really had been, it was something that had driven the vampires in this castle to me, they say my eyes were dull.
and yet full of beauty and brightness while still being quite far away and hollow.
I was like that of a perfect yin and yang, alive yet dead, breathing yet no air entering.
silent yet screaming forever stuck in a cycle of death and rebirth, for one purpose alone.
often if I was looking at them, those creatures! that take my blood yet do not give in return. they say it is as if I am staring straight through them, that they were nothing more than a painting on the wall I had seen thousands of times over.
it had been centuries since I was first locked away here, I do not remember the exact time.
the sun has not once touched my skin in so long, as if in some sick way, I am becoming like them.
I do not remember what I was before, was I truly human?
or always some pawn to be used by others?
all I know is if I was to die here, I would still be in service, giving my body, soul, mind, and very essence, to the beings I once believed were fables.
forever at their very Bec and call, as if I was some puppy, listening to a master for praise, yet I never received any, for it would be weakness for them to show care for me?
no?
in forever and eternity, stuck as nothing more than a source of entertainment, and food for creatures many wouldn't believe exist.
even if I showed it to their very eyes........
Copyright © Aaron Newham | Year Posted 2025
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Aaron Newham Poem
Do we not all wish to fly once as Icarus flew,
is that not we all wish for,
even if we are to fall,
do we not yern for the thrill he once felt,
the pure joy he embodied as he laughed were he should feel pain.
Why is it that we wish for this,
something that should bring fear,
yet ignites a pure unbridled excitement in those that are lost to it?
Copyright © Aaron Newham | Year Posted 2026
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