Departure Poem by Phoebe Riley

The soil weeps at my departing footsteps
Or at least I like to think so
This bleeding earth pretends to mourn
But as my back turns,
The shell,
Which has become hollow,
An unmistakable smirk breaks out
Upon its wrinkled and grassy face
Distorted features or true ones
Which I, in spite of myself, chase
Oh sweet England!
Alas, I must forsake thee,
For though this traveller’s glee,
Won’t come to be
Do not pity me,
Exist yet I will
Cogs and bolts turn still
The mechanics function
Contradicting my soul’s depletion
Dig deep
Into the trenches of myself I do retreat
Paralysed by the alien militants
Who come to gun me down?
This earth-beaten face bares a heavy frown
What war is this?
As the minutes tick
That I stare perpetually into the abyss
To the ‘’heavens’’ I weep
Just a scrap,
A mere morsel of inspiration,
Is all I seek
The skies’ reply is rain
So bitter and penetrating
That it pierced the flesh raw
With its multiple needles
My torture is omnipotent
Omnipresent and omnimalevolent
And He a mere phantom
An illusion
The world’s infinite impossibilities
A noose
Coils
Tightening around my decrepit neck
Coils
Tightening around my decrepit neck
Tighter and tighter
Suffocating
At first the flesh strains
It squeezes
Widerstand
But then,
An epiphany
Upon realising its indefatigability
It ceases to fight, it stops.
Kein Kampf mehr!
The monster clenches its fists
Its beady eye glints
Its fangs borne
Ravenous for a feast
But it ought not
For into its lascivious clutches I will come
Into the abyss I stare as before
Flesh’s garments are undressed
And the eyes’ sockets fail
Extinguished light, extinguished life
And British bones rattle German territory as before.