Erin B- Best Dramatic Poetry
The Shriek of Demons
She shrieks sharply through the iron gate
that is closed against my pervading spirit.
Her jarring words are only as bright
as the grinning demons that are coming;
looming towards my madness, and into
the absolute and utter hell
of my being.
The monstrous words rupture my starving soul.
The hateful demons slit a stinging cut
into my unconscious mind.
There is fire; Fire covering the sinful beings.
They are burning and digging into me
along with the shrieks
of her words.
Bloodsucking mesh of a messed up mind
is seeking for a good remark.
I hear it falling down behind;
I hear it synthesizing in my head.
It's just this tedious noise.
Go away, fly away
Before I turn evil;
Before I hurt the world,
And then myself.
No whining, or I think I'll cry.
No yelling, or I think I'll die.
Go away, fly away
Before I turn crazy;
Before I hurt them,
And then my own soul.
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At a Deserted Cottage
I can hear music, but from where,
I don't know.
I can hear the pounding of the rain
On the wooden roof;
And the wind is beating
Into the walls.
I lie here with a cigarette dangling
Between my fingers.
My thoughts are like a whirlwind
In my head.
As I breathe in the last puff
Of the deadly stick,
And push the fire out
In the overloaded ashtray,
I become restless.
I am overcome with an urge
To run out
Into the wet rain,
Beneath the midnight gloom.
Slowly, I rise
And flicking off the light,
I trample out
Onto the grass.
The darkness and the thunder are enough
to scare me. I walk fast,
Faster, into the woods. I am almost
running into trees
As I try to find the gravel road.
I am damp and shivery
When I finally find myself
On a winding path.
I start to think about him.
I keep walking
to the only place he could be,
but he's not there.
Now I'm agitated and tear
my way back
to the small, lone cottage.
He still hasn't come,
So I lie back down
Under the warm blankets
that has the sweet smell
Of my love.
And I wait for the rain to stop;
I wait for him.
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More by this Author
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