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"The Station (Poem)"

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Thu 08/08/13 at 15:06
Regular
Posts: 9,995
Safety in the sanctum, plump
Coal lined room, a velvet castle
Moon eyes fixed amid furore
The swaying bodies on the floor
Darkness of the frenzied dance
Envelopes that and as life stares
The mirth of dancers sweeping past

Sudden slow the movement feast
A moment plucked but from the black
Of blazing flashback to the mouth
Of memories from edge of mind
Of waiting softly in the dark
Trees without breath beside the house
Sudden screams of swollen beasts
Erupting through to that soft place

And if it were a Summerís morn
These burbled tones would answer them
But at unholy witching hour
No answer, but Iíd meekly stop
Clutching close her guts for warmth
And wait till morn begins to stand

But back, the thought it passes swift
The rift begins to melt and sift
To turn to shout, but waxen face
And mannequin, bodies replaced
Of dancers, danced and turned to stone
No music only drumbeat answers
Heartbeat of the gaping maw
Which was a door and is no more
White figures enter, left and right
The reek of pounds of burning flesh
And cindered ceiling, ironed blood
Hooked noses on their mourning masks
Push through the wordless frozen crowd

Of that nurtured fortress robbed
As leathered hands and bone of robe
Begin to close like stars on sky
And mottled fingers pull at air
Behind those masks of ash filled dusk
The smiling mouths revealing tusks
Revealing mine by tugging hard
And mauled the mind, decapitate
Holding up the head to see
That flood of terror before wake
Of mews so loud as though to flee
Hand reaching from the curdled mass
Scruff of neck thrown to the day
Foul ghouls turned vapour, melt away
The cord is cut and burned and frayed
The smile draped on demonís face
There have been no replies to this thread yet.
Thu 08/08/13 at 15:06
Regular
Posts: 9,995
Safety in the sanctum, plump
Coal lined room, a velvet castle
Moon eyes fixed amid furore
The swaying bodies on the floor
Darkness of the frenzied dance
Envelopes that and as life stares
The mirth of dancers sweeping past

Sudden slow the movement feast
A moment plucked but from the black
Of blazing flashback to the mouth
Of memories from edge of mind
Of waiting softly in the dark
Trees without breath beside the house
Sudden screams of swollen beasts
Erupting through to that soft place

And if it were a Summerís morn
These burbled tones would answer them
But at unholy witching hour
No answer, but Iíd meekly stop
Clutching close her guts for warmth
And wait till morn begins to stand

But back, the thought it passes swift
The rift begins to melt and sift
To turn to shout, but waxen face
And mannequin, bodies replaced
Of dancers, danced and turned to stone
No music only drumbeat answers
Heartbeat of the gaping maw
Which was a door and is no more
White figures enter, left and right
The reek of pounds of burning flesh
And cindered ceiling, ironed blood
Hooked noses on their mourning masks
Push through the wordless frozen crowd

Of that nurtured fortress robbed
As leathered hands and bone of robe
Begin to close like stars on sky
And mottled fingers pull at air
Behind those masks of ash filled dusk
The smiling mouths revealing tusks
Revealing mine by tugging hard
And mauled the mind, decapitate
Holding up the head to see
That flood of terror before wake
Of mews so loud as though to flee
Hand reaching from the curdled mass
Scruff of neck thrown to the day
Foul ghouls turned vapour, melt away
The cord is cut and burned and frayed
The smile draped on demonís face

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