Drifting through Doubt

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

The light at the end of the darkness, is the guilty glare of the laptop
Silently throbbing into the protesting eyes, Who want to Pull behind the blankets
And the tapping of the keys on the board, chaotic, periodic, Oxy-moronic
Thats a wierdly amusing set of words, Almost made me smile.

Almost. What is this retreat of the spirit, leaving the mind who
Is now lost in itself, tripping to whatever song it can fancy in this state
Repeating the lyrics over and over and over, again and again
like a madman, whispering behind his knees which rock on their heel

It does not so by choice, it is being led into the underworld
On the boat in the silent river, rippled by the splintered oar
The mind, leans sideways to see, who is the hooded devil taking him away
Alas, the mind cannot lean much more, for undrneath the silent torture floats.

Afraid to fall into the chasm of thought, the mind balances on the creaking boat
The mind knows the journey will end, but knuckles reflect white on the broken rim
'Poetic?' the hood ruffles, The rasping voice screeching into the mind
Pulling it back, infront of the Laptop, Among the sound of the keys, eyes blind.

Submitted: July 17, 2016

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David L.Blaze


Sun, July 17th, 2016 9:19pm

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