Log In
Ghosts of my past
By Deviated09
The senses entranced.
The mind cloudy, blank.
Listening, seeing. Nothing retained.
Is this real?
Is this heaven or my own version of hell?
What did I do to end up here?
why is there nothing I can feel...
Death, destruction, betrayal.
Far too many drugs to cope.
This blurred tree infront of me.
did it just speak?
Is this a dream?
Did I finally kill myself?
And a new wave of murderous,
gut wrenching pain ensues.
I've found hell. It is here.
It is everywhere. It is reality.
Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited.
Ask the author first.
Copyright 2013 Deviated09
Published on Monday, July 29, 2013.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Author's Note:
I completely lost my muse midway...Comments on "Ghosts of my past"
Log in to post comments.
-
On Tuesday, August 20, 2013, dwells
(4177)
wrote:
Meant to add, the speaking, blurred tree was a fine touch of the surreal.
-
On Tuesday, August 20, 2013, dwells
(4177) wrote:
I'll frequently start with a vague idea and then wind up someplace else. Rhyming poetry can do that frequently, but in this piece of prose perhaps another muse took over at the end, cheers D9!
-
On Monday, July 29, 2013, xZombie Poptartzx
(332) wrote:
Hmmm this almost has the feel of someone stuck in limbo... between heaven and hell, not getting an end. Life can feel like that somedays. xoxo
Deviated09's Latest Works Feed
Join