The Wake... a poem
By Tony DeLorger © 2012
the words just leached into thin air,
syllables melding and undefined,
as if no intent were possible.
Hands of comfort,
were like intrusions of pity,
each a personal infringement,
a touch unwanted.
yet meaningless to a scrambled mind,
one at the edge of consciousness,
Time slowed to a limp dragging,
each second thundered,
each thought stillborn,
numbness a thick ominous cloud.
The feeling of touch had dissipated
into a dull senseless, pointlessness,
like trying to grasp air,
yearning with no end.
She considered what would ensue,
after this day, after this nothing,
when would life beckon, if ever,
but today life hid in the shadows.
She realised that people had gone,
hardly remembering they were there at all,
and she noticed light fading,
the room around her sinking further into dim.
Her stomach rumbled,
her mouth was dry,
yet what good was that to know,
amidst the end of the world.
His face suddenly returned,
in front of her, kindness eyes,
reaching into her,
and tugging at her, as if to awaken.
She closed her eyes,
still aware of here heart beating,
and she opened her eyes and he was gone.
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