Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

The Dark Room

Poetry By: Ashleigh Butcher
Poetry



I suppose, in a way, we are all descending our own stairs to the dark room...call it judgment day, if you like. I also suppose its also true that 'death hath no dominion'...because, at the end of the day, it's all up to us.


Submitted:Sep 9, 2008    Reads: 135    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


The Dark Room

They entered the dark room

In silence;

Unaware of each other,

Yet through the same door.

Their written book, epitaph,

Gripped in one hand,

And clamped to the hard

stony floor.

Around them: the darkened

enclosure,

Laced with remains of

Cadaverous worth.

The portal between

Two opposing dimensions

With the judgement on either the death,

Or rebirth.

Those with light souls

Discovered their feet-

Like steps at infancy-

Below their shape.

And moved, with discovery,

Into the tunnel:

The window of morality

Through which they'd escape.

But, those who had not

Understanding-

Those who'd been stripped

of fabric ideals-

Their dwindling existence dissolved

Into the walls,

Forced to face demons

The light once concealed.

As we, in ourselves, descend our

Own stairs-

Albeit with props, and methods

To console-

Consider, when symbols can't stray

Self-criticism,

That all you truly have,

Is your soul.

Ashleigh Butcher





0

| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.