Details |
Dylan Shea Poem
I write this as I watch the storm.
A blizzard if you will, although I enjoy it.
The ice encompasses the trees.
Melting away, it drips from each branch.
The storm rages on...
I hear the cries of the whipping winds.
Mother Nature's screams of anguish flood my ears.
As the snow falls from the sky, it begins to devour the land I once knew.
The storm rages on...
As if attempting to be malicious, limbs of the trees began to fall.
Her power seems to be immeasurable.
But her destruction is done with a sense of elegance.
It is as if, it is her own personal form of art.
The storm begins to calm...
As her devastation lessens, beauty emerges.
The snow gleams bright with the reflection of the sun.
Almost blinding, but breathtaking nevertheless.
It seems to me that in the end, love has come from her fury...
A true mysterious ending to such simple horror...
The storm ends...
Copyright © Dylan Shea | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Dylan Shea Poem
Cursed with the silence of a thousand years, he entered the land of the lost.
Without giving more than a quick glance,
His eyes remained locked shut,
For he knew that they could not handle such a terror.
He cried for the first time, as his Father was lowered six feet into the Earth.
He unwillingly watched,
While his whole being was filled with the utmost horrific form of agony imaginable.
As the burial came to an end, everyone came to him and apologized.
They do not realize that this only causes his suffering to grow.
When the crowd dispersed,
All that was left was him and a flower covered grave.
He sat until the moon rose, and finally spoke.
"I love you, Dad."
Copyright © Dylan Shea | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Dylan Shea Poem
What great power the inferno holds.
Decimation.
Engulfed with fire and turned to ash.
Anticipating the limbs to catch ablaze.
With golden eyes, they gazed upon each soaring ember.
The flames danced to the cries of the owl.
With agony and love, it screamed to the everlasting stars.
Burning the old oak of its mere existence.
Beneath the sky, the inferno flourished.
Copyright © Dylan Shea | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Dylan Shea Poem
On this limitless evening,
I sit upon Diane's stone placed at the brink of the pier.
My personal haven, so it seems.
The water rages and clashes into each rugged boulder that surrounds me.
Occasionally, a sweet kiss is splashed upon my cheek.
I gaze at the break wall as the winds work endlessly, similar to my mind.
God's breath caresses my whole self, for I do need it.
On this evening, as I sit upon Diane's stone, with the golden Sun beating down on
my fragile skin,
I welcome my new outlook on this life that I live.
From the moment the gift of life itself was placed within me, I have been drowning in
its chaos.
Lies, treachery, and disgust.
Entombed by the Beast, who controlled my every deed.
She was my master and I was her slave.
Until today.
Until this moment.
I can sincerely say, that I am free of her sorcery at last.
Withdrawn from her corruption.
Released from her dictatorship.
I now stand strong and tall, for I am no longer a victim of such horror.
Finally,
Free to live my life.
Free to believe.
Free to fly.
Free to be me.
Copyright © Dylan Shea | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Dylan Shea Poem
Goodnight reality.
Tonight, I shall fall into an impenetrable slumber.
The flames of Hell,
The God's thunder,
Not even Mother Nature's wrath would cause me to stir.
For I am lost.
Left behind in a world of forgotten hopes and dreams.
A fate considered to be far worse than death...
Copyright © Dylan Shea | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Dylan Shea Poem
With eagerness that burned with an eternal intensity,
She gazes beyond the stars.
Pondering the true meaning of life.
All of her beliefs, depleted.
Her pure inquisition.
Is there a God?
Will He forgive me?
Will He save me from my faults?
Question's she wails, to an evening sky.
Yet, no answers are endured.
To live, striving to quench an assumed "God's" thirst.
To please him.
To be infallible.
Obviously, an unimaginable milestone.
She envisions such a life, and attains her own belief.
To one who lives such a horror...
A fall-out of faith... or even death may be a sweet release.
Copyright © Dylan Shea | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Dylan Shea Poem
Creature's of the sun!
I bow to you, my kings!
Oh tyrant, oh glory!
I cry thy name.
I weep beneath these forbidden clouds,
As they surround me, I lose all sense of hope.
Worship one’s nightmare.
Butcher one’s dream.
The mirror reflects the terror’s within.
With sewn shut eyes,
I search the unlimited depths of my mind.
They watch, they haunt, and follow near.
As the shadows dance, the creature’s come.
Beyond this Earth, my will be done.
The creature’s in flames, burn like the Sun
Copyright © Dylan Shea | Year Posted 2011
|