Dark Side

 

(Writer’s Note:  I wrote this verse for my good friend, Ken Snowden known here as saddlerider1.  He is a great story-teller and a wonderful poet who is visited all too frequently by the shadow of the dark side.  We all are but Ken is one of those who is very aware of the presence. I wrote this to let him know that we feel that touch of the dark side from time to time.)

 

 

 

 

What is that which calls to me from the dark side

Is it word of sickness or one who has surely died?

Could it be depression conjured by a mind that lied

Is it just me calling to myself from the dark side?

 

Fear, pain, and horror call out from the dark depths

Reaching with their fingers to pull me down the steps

I stand in fascination at dark’s open, creaking door

Knowing the time has come to enter here once more

 

What lies beyond the light that shines down the stair?

What unthinkable events lay in wait for me there?

The voices call out to come down the creaking way

I stand at the door in fascination wanting to run away

 

Who’s there? Who calls my name from the dark below?

Who calls out my name from a place I don’t want to go?

Is it someone I know or someone I so long to see?

Must I climb down those stairs to satisfy my curiosity?

 

Cold sweat rolls down my face as I gaze down into the dark

Nothing moving, only voices calling for me to take my mark

Come down the stairs and join the fold, feel the misery

Come down into the dark and see what we can see

 

Hypnotized and fascinated my heart longs to enter here

Though breath is short and hands shake; there’s no fear

I have seen that which is behind these doors over days that I live

I have suffered in their agony but my soul I will not give

 

Can you come within and see the things we have here for you?

Can you come within and share our fears; so sad, so true?

We’ll not harm you; cause you distress; nothing very gory

Just hear our words, live our tales, release our misery story

 

The dark side calls as if a poet’s muse sitting on a shoulder tall

The dark side lurks deep within ourselves, every one of us; all

Stand before the door and hear the calls from down below

It’s the voices of the dark side, beckoning you to go.

 

What is that which calls to me from the dark side

Is it word of sickness or one who has surely died?

Could it be depression conjured by a mind that lied

Is it just me calling to myself from the dark side?

 

 

 

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