(09) - Domestic Interlude

Rating: 2.6
The man lies in his armchair,
Asleep, two dozen beer cans
Scattered about him
Like the spent bullet casings
From a suicidal's gun.

Before him, the television drones on,
As ignorant as the man himself.
The news-
A suspected serial killing...
Mysterious marks on victims' necks...
Bodies drained of blood...
No leads.

The man sleeping
Sees none of this.
He sleeps on, unaware
Of the terror on his television.

He would not believe if he knew,
So it does not matter.
For warning has no value
If it is not taken seriously.

A mother lays her children in bed.
-Two children, their youthful innocence
Radiating from their faces.-
She is unaware
Of the eternity that would steal her childrens'

The darkness hides itself well.
The Changed,
Always near,
Danger and death personified.

Only one knows, and believes.
He alone can hold back the shadow.
But he is alone,
And thus in darkness.

Terror grips his soul,
As it would the souls
Of all, if they knew
And believed.
Kylie Hahn 16 November 2004
great poem. it's deep. intense.
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3/5/2021 1:22:16 AM #