Clinton Steele

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Dogmatic Death

Dogmatic Death

A softly crying swell of emotion slowly unwinds its story through half whispered wishes.

It pours into my empty soul like a dangerous addiction offering bitter sweet feelings to prolong my pain.

Conjuring acrimonious emotions which linger at the essence of my inner being, it tortures me with its malicious melody.

My heart swells in silent agony until it finally pushes a torrid of unheard screams from that secret place where I wrestle with myself.

Unseen tears drop from my eyes falling unnoticed by a world that passes me by.

Suffering is my lover and misery keeps me company when she is away, awful loneliness lies waiting with open arms to envelope me.


Dissatisfaction drains me daily, feasting on the solitude of my thoughts that wearily wear me away.

I turn quickly to shout out to the emptiness where someone I loved once stood.

I spin out of control, in freefall; all alone in the darkness of the night and the thought of a tomorrow that holds a perverted pleasure of assured anguish.

Heartless heartbeats echo in the empty void where I wait wantonly for an end that always escapes my desperate invitation.

Here I exclaim with endless begging for death to take me, take me now; but neither revival nor release will patronage my private prison.

Death dances delightfully around this decrepit dogma that decorates my demented disjuncture.



W. E. Cleets

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