Hiding
“I am the judge and jury. The harshest sceptic, condemner. The executioner with the swiftest blade…”
What creative does not know the tale? The squandering of talents crying to break
Exhilarating rush
tantalizing the mind
giving wind to the soul
Soaring, soaring above
Nothing but air below
Higher and higher these feelings take you
elating every molecule of your body and soul
The wind turns cold
Darkness approaches from ahead
It’s too late to turn back now
The beast has you in his head
Sinking, sinking into the icy abyss
Darkness asunder,
drowning the cry that fights to breach your lips
Plunging, plunging as he wraps his dark cocoon
Surrounding your fragile being
leaving you gasping for breath
hoping to wake from this dreaming
Into your prison you fall
enclosed by the darkness that clouded your heart
The beast has consumed you
and the beast you will be
Shadow Side.
Often times in the past, my shadow side was tantalised by the things that weren’t good for me, giving further reason to fall into that downward spiral of inner judgement. Wrong relationships, pushing myself too hard, unforgiving of my own mistakes. The tribulation that rages inside your soul as you battle that inner beast.
For those who’s lives have been touched by trauma, this inner beast feels more inescapable, more unconquerable, suffocating, torturous.
I wrote this poem some years ago at a rather dark time in my life. No matter how dark and treacherous your inner world may look in your worst moments, there is always, always a bright, beautiful dawn on the other side.
Sometimes you have to face the darkness to get to the light.
“I am the judge and jury. The harshest sceptic, condemner. The executioner with the swiftest blade…”
What creative does not know the tale? The squandering of talents crying to break
“If the heart could speak…would it shed tears of mourning for the scarring of the soul? Dragging steal across bone, carving in “I’m not enough…”
“What flows into song cannot be unsung, the motion of the world long moved undone…” Within each note is a chain to something far beyond ourselves, calling us home.
Berlin Artist, Artist and Poet, American Artist, American Poet, Nature Artist, Poems of Love, Berlin Poet, Spoken Word Artist, Best Poetry, Musical Artist
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