Dog - Poem by Shiloh Thompson
Erotic dreams painted in red,
Crimson splatters upon the wall,
Remind me of a tormented past,
Of memories locked away,
The deeper recesses of my mind,
Crying out for his touch,
That painfully gentle touch,
The touch that burns as it coaxes.
My mind wanders across the spectrum,
I touch the red walls gingerly,
Realizing my flesh comes away red,
The paint rolling down my limbs like blood,
The blood of the innocent,
His blood, his wounds not yet healed.
A child’s innocence and beauty,
Tattered beyond recognition,
Torn away by a desperate beast,
Not realizing the damage done,
Until it was much too late to undo.
Dripping in the red rage of passion,
I stare at my only love, dismayed,
It was never to end this way!
I scream out in desperation and fury,
My voice ripped from my throat,
Crying through the ages,
Chilling those who hear to the bone,
It is the cry of a wounded animal,
Not human, yet so raw and passionate,
No mere animal would be capable of that emotion.
Raw, bleeding and blinded,
I stumble down a path of pain,
Shattered glass, thorns and barbed wire,
Cutting my naked body to pieces,
Each time I pause, I am forced on,
This cruel gauntlet of hate and agony,
No release until I have paid the price.
Mistakes leer at me from every wall,
Reaching out, reminding me of failure,
I run, trying to get away from their grasp,
But they just pull me in, laughing at my fear.
Arms of filth and putrid flesh,
Drag me down deeper into the bowls of Hell,
I cannot escape from this awful fate!
Sinking into the cesspool of despair,
The walls tumbling down around this life,
Snuffing it out faster than a candle in a hurricane,
Why struggle any longer?
I give into the chaos and discord,
Not even bothering to take a final breath,
The darkness closes in around my head,
All hope is lost in the dark,
Not even calling out for help,
The life leaves my eyes,
All of our shared smiles and laughter,
Only distant memories of days past,
Never to be rise to life again.
Shivering does nothing to block the cold,
For it comes from the inside of my heart,
From the depths of the soul,
No light to warm, no light to cheer,
Only darkness that embraces my body,
Its icy embrace the only feeling,
Instead of the gentleness of his arms,
Nothing in the world can warm this bitterness.
I can feel the very life extinguishing from my limbs,
The chill seeping outward,
Turning my body to granite,
My heart changing to a block of ice,
The soul of me naught but a faded shadow,
My mind a shattered window, scattered.
The faded petals of a dying rose,
Final remains of a beautiful garden of happiness,
Whisked away forever by a lonely wind,
One pauses by me in its long journey,
I reach out to touch it, grasping at hope,
But it crumbles away to a fine powder,
Swept away by the howling gale,
Nothing but another memory to be forgotten.
Lying on my side, I close my eyes,
The darkness I see deeper than the one I shut out,
No colors dance across the lids of my eyes,
Just black, ebony and midnight gray,
Swirling together, combining,
Creating a darker existence than ever before.
Alone, all alone, between waking and sleep,
A comatose sensation, with no end,
Not daring to move for fear I will fall farther.
On my final web of sanity I perch,
My tense shivers quivering the delicate strands,
Hearing them moan softly with the strain,
But what does it matter?
I am dead inside, as dead as he is.
No rescue for the fallen,
No one reaching out to save me,
Just faceless strangers passing by,
Nary will a one heed my cries,
They just turn and walk away,
I don’t expect them to understand,
I doubt any comprehend my angst,
So I continue in my silent death.
The glimmer finally disappears,
Glazed eyes turn cloudy, unseeing,
The final breath whooshes from my lungs,
Winging its way to the Creator,
The shell of my body is left behind,
But the soul is dragged down,
Anchored to the surface of the Earth,
Forever doomed to haunt this place,
A whisper of a ghost,
Ever seeking a companion,
Someone to release me from my agony,
To give me the gift of love,
Compassion in the life after death,
Something, or someone to hold me,
To release me into the light,
Giving me a path in the darkness,
So that I may ascend into the heavens.
But for now, alas, this is my fate,
To wander and to roam this lonely place,
Haunting his sacred final resting place,
Guarding him until eternity and beyond,
Paying for my mistakes in my own way.
So on moonless nights in the fall,
When the trees creak and moan in the wind,
Come here and listen closely,
Hear my agonized howls,
See my light footsteps in the ground,
Read the words upon the stone of my master,
‘Here lies a man and his dog,
Faithful friends until the very end.’
Comments about Dog by Shiloh Thompson
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