Marien Jacobs

Rookie (28/09/1984 / Pretoria)

Will This Cycle Never Ends - Poem by Marien Jacobs

I woke up, and it’s still dark, my body still shaking
And again I don’t want to be waken
I want to sleep…sleep forever
Escaping this encircled, sinister tremor

Then I might find light
When a new day breaks bright.
May I stay in a dreamless, peaceful slumber?
One where one’s not waken…and sleep ripped asunder.

Waken by scenes and words,
By a racing heartbeat of unknown hazards.
One is not supposed to think when you’re asleep
Then leave me to rest…calm and deep….

I stretch forth my naked hand
All I feel is the wet cold walls and sand
A dark tunnel…I’m somewhere in the middle
Caught in its unknown, petrifying riddle.

Where did I come from? How did I get here?
Where am I heading? The questions sound clear.
But it’s only the lonesome hollow sound
Of questions echoing in my mind that I found….

Am I blind? My eyes without sight?
Or is there just no light?
Only pitch darkness…
No answers…

So how am I supposed to know
Then which direction to go?
For now the only promise of either way
Is darkness of night, which may lead astray.

I start walking in the direction of my feet
Still not knowing where it might lead…

Pitch darkness isn’t the most peaceful place to be,
I keep hearing noises, voices – calling after me…
Voices saying I’ll never make it out
Or is it just the wind hounding my fear and doubt?


A cold chill went down my spine
I wish I could go back to sleep and be fine.
In to a sleep where I won’t feel the pain
Of the darkness and coldness of night again.

I hear a growl and swing around
The growl echo a laughing sound
Then a claw grabs hold of my body with pain
I scream and kick – only to hit the air in vain.

Slowly and quietly I try to make my way
In the direction I was heading...while I pray.
My body’s quivering and I reach with my hands to feel my back
A sticky wetness covers my hands as I feel the scars of the attack.

What place is this? How did I get here?
Only darkness…a place of confusion and fear
Only the images of the past flashing in front of mine eyes
“Where am I heading or where might this lead? ” my mind cries.

How should I know what awaits me there…
Or that where this might lead, I’ll be able to bear…
My strength is drained…
My vision seems stained…

I see myself stumble, falling to the cold wet ground
Again not knowing, if I should wake, what’s to be found
And again I wonder
As I go into a deep slumber

Will this cycle never end? …


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, December 8, 2011



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