Shed. Poem by Darius Burns

Shed.



Eyes force open…alert…aware.
Legs, restless with the clutches of dawn.
Sky still sobs frozen droplets to glass…
Resting still on a woodland lawn.

November rain was falling; pale brown remnants were calling…
Shrieking sorrow long dead and dried.
It started with a will, and a wisp…
Bearing crisp from his sorrowful name.
Companions of mahogany and cedar nooses,
But never once menacing from any range.
Where everything is always the same…
Weeping for a solemn change.

Bloodshot windows of forlorn reveries…
Lingered temptation from beyond closed eyes…
Something amiss, something off balance,
Something tempting beyond exposed eyes.

I remember the knife, as it so glimmered,
Resting motionless between cracks of the counter.
Dull, rusted, sending a sorrowful echo…
In some pile of glistening, deadly powder.

I remember that blade, as it rode with the tablet…
Two fateful opposites of the same mirror.
Shedding the skin for a simple tool,
For complex margins of silence's error…

Soul of his laid down to serenity…
Where it will never fade to waver.
A bleeding soul lay to flesh…
Leaving dark stains upon the paper.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
This was written on February 25th,2013. It is the first of a poetry collection I've started, which will be called 'The Black Lodge.'

It is personally a 45 poem collection, or will be 45 poems, that tell the story of a man who has exiled himself to a lodge in the forest to comfort himself of the trauma convulsed by his dead spouse. Overall, this is taking place sometime during a 'spiritual proclamation' (you will understand later) , and every spirit is taken away from humans, including good and bad, to the core of the Earth...Blackwater Park. (Credit to Opeth!)

Only, there is one problem. This man, whom no one knows of, has been somehow living his life in the forest, everyday, stuck in a sort of trance in which he blocks his emotions out with more 'necessary' matters, including hunger and entertainment.

When the spirits come to 'The Black Lodge, ' they were intended to hide away, deep beneath the ground...
Or were supposed to.

Deep beneath the lodge...
Deep beneath Blackwater Park...

But instead, deep inside of a man.


So what this poem, 'Shed' is about, is basically the fastest spirit to strike, or Death, reaching Blackwater Park and instilling himself in this man, and he begins to write. I will be speaking from many P.O.V's...sometimes from the man, sometimes from the voice of the spirits, and sometimes in third persons :) It all will depend on what is happening at the current time, and sometimes, it will focus on what is actually going on in the world, or what has, or how the forest is behaving, etc.

One last thing. This will be emotional. Very emotional. No bland words.

Meanwhile, follow my Mibba profile! :

http: //www.mibba.com/Member/311897/
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