Light Poem by Lum Chabot

The chilling dampness envelopes me,
Asphyxiating, down to the depths of my soul,
The abyssal pitch, so hardly droll,
Absent of prosperity,

No light penetrates the pitch,
Concealing me, the me contentious,
The rebellious side, the hidden vociferous
Side of me, the accurséd witch,

It thrashes around in ravenous dark,
Eating away at what I am, voraciously,
Living still, but incredibly vicariously,
Yet still hiding something: The malicious Mark,

The chilling dampness surrounding me,
Pouring into my lungs,
Rapidly descending the rungs,
Of the ladder that parts life and death, I’m sore,

Sore of worrying about things I should not,
Some things I could not, Yet still worry for,
The rules now broken, no purpose to abhor
Them, they are meaningless for all I do is rot,

Sanguine liquid seeps out of the wound,
It crawls all throughout my soul intoxicating
Everything, leaking from my hand, devigorating,
Hopefully this torturous life will end soon,

A fallacy emerges, so painful and trite,
Exposing my life for what it is, hypocrisy,
My words now mute, lost all viscosity,
Then he cries “Oh, woe is me! ”

The pain begins to fade,
He realizes he is slipping fast,
Sweet Death not caring for his mask,
The process rapidly begins to age,

His eyes go dark, just like his soul,
Evolved into such a thing as a lie,
Now buried deep in Earth, wishes he could fly
Out of the impending, damning hole…

The light between, he sees,
Nothing but black, smells naught
But of Earth taunting him…

Then his mind returns to
Him, but his voice does not,
His most beautiful part…

Then the Earth begins to writhe,
It slowly dissolves ‘fore his eyes,
Yet to his surprise, He can only surmise,
The small shred of light, so dashingly lithe,

The gap keeps widening,
All around him he sees,
Everything He could have been,
Among the Earth, oh so stifling,

As to block out his mind,
To block out his sight,
Now not so contrite,
Leaving Death so far behind,

He is near the end, He knows,
But he is fixed on the light,
Moving closer to him, absent is his blight,
his faith now grows,

Finally, a figure appears, so crystal and clear,
And provides a pristine lament,
he falls into Her, so perfect and pure,
As he gently welcomes the end,

his eyes slowly open, and slowly reopen,
To gaze upon his glorious surprise,
he was staring into Her glistening eyes, and realized
That he had not died, but he had been reborn,
Into Paradise, forevermore.