the horror of that night
holds the seal tight
the memory riveted
securely barring entry
none can pass
his bitter resolve
makes certain
none will try
this is a stark forbidden place
stoney
crypt-like
cold and barren
as the moon
unyielding
lifeless
a wasteland of the lost
inhabited by the dead
the gate grown over
by a tangle of grief
and anger
any memory
of a once vital presence
of a living breath
of warmth
of joy
forever gone
long ago
brutal night had fallen
on the void within
no sun can penetrate
the blackness soothes him
he retreats into its depths
embraces its lightless void
hiding
sulking
shielded from any possibility
of further pain
or remorse
he is unfeeling
safely lifeless
in that long ago
he gave his heart’s key
to dark despair
who
shrouded in mourning
atop the winged bird of misery
took flight
never to return
never to return
never
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2020
Let Your Words Be Your Paintbrush!
WOW, You went to a dark place with this one, Rob, but spell-binding, as always. Bravo
Thank you Bev. Read my #2 poem from today. I started the same but took it to the bright light of love… 🙂
That is a dark and unyielding place to be. That never, at the end, has a finality.
We chose the same image, smiles.
I also used that image to create a positive piece. Read my #2.
Darkness encompasses this piece. I wonder what has happened that night? Maybe, some things should not be revealed. I get a sense of foreboding, doom of some sorts. Who holds the key to open the light?
Read my #2 from today True, and there will be light — golden light… 🙂
in that long ago
he gave his heart’s key
to dark despair
this is a very dark place to be… This poem goes all the way to the bottom of loss and darkness.
Your images are well written.
I figured if I was going down into the dark abyss with this one, I was gonna go all the way… 🙂
It must be a kryptonite place to be so fixed in never returning. He knows what is best for his peace of mind.
…or he is trapped by the insanity of grief?
Oh, this is so sad! But so beautiful at the same time: an epic lament.
Thank you Ingrid, I appreciate the kind words… 🙂
The image took you into darkness, and I’m not surprised, Rob, as I had considered this image and it took me into the darkness too. The opening stanzas are so tense, with the unknown horror, the tightly sealed and riveted memory, and the bitter resolve. I want to know why, and where is this ‘stark forbidden place’, this ‘wasteland of the lost / inhabited by the dead’? I love the metaphor of the ‘gate grown over / by a tangle of grief / and anger’.
I think the dark forbidden place is the cold, barren, stoney, dark, dank castle of grief he built inwardly that consumed even around him. He was so despaired that he was immersed im pure black — numb! He had given up all hope. Have you ever been totally consumed by debilitating abject sorrow — too deeply sad to even kill yourself, living in a horrible suspended void. No feeling, none at all. I been there. That is what this piece is about. My memories of being too empty for anger to hollow to die. Not a good place — don’t recommend it.
I feel that if you make the choice to keep the darkness locked inside it will eat you up… really dark this poem
Unreleased grief and despair will literally kill you.
I thought this image was fascinating, but I wasn’t sure what to write about it. As others have said, you’ve taken us to a dark place. I read it as someone who has sunken into the deepest depression/grief–like being in a black hole.
This is a soul lost completely to grief. But, if you read my #2, you will see there can be rescue… 🙂
Deep, dark, and foreboding, Ron.
Thankfully that has passed for me — but I have been there.
Darkness and finality hover over this piece, Rob! Brilliantly rendered.
Thank you Eugenia, I channeled my fondness for the writings of Edgar Allen Poe in approaching this poem. I did shine a ray of hope on it in writing my piece #2.
You set so many ideas upside down in this one. The gentle moon becomes cold and sinister, the summer swallow a bird of misery, and the possibilities of flight becoming never, the ultimate dead end.
I’m not now Jane, but when my 18-year-old son Aaron was killed, I was way down to the very darkest end of that dead end road, with no gas in the tank, and no motivation to ever come back — so I still can feel that absolute void of despair at times… and my periods of sickness and depression in these recent months, stirred that darkness a bit for me. I wrote about it as an expression of my humanity. I know others have been there for whatever their personal reason. But you can come back. I did. Maybe this will help another. Also, in my #2 response to Lillian’ Tuesday’s prompt, and Catrin’s fabulous images, I offered a vision of golden rescue from that abject darkness. And my #3 offers magic. 🙂
“Safely lifeless” is such a powerful metaphor of dark despair. I know that numbness and have been thankful for being unable to “feel” the pain as deeply but as you show, it is deep crater into an abyss of “never”
Been there as well Dora. Not a place I want to revisit anytime again.
The darkness coupled with despair and gloom seeks to capture and is a landscape not foreign to mankind, the key I believe remains hidden inside the soul waiting to be discovered.
It is the “…dark night of the soul…” where life has no meaning whatsoever, and the desire to continue to live is completely absent. Many if not all of us has been there Sanaa — or close enough to understand despair… which is one level deeper into the black hole than depression.
This guy’s headed for big trouble. Keeping all that evil hidden never bodes well
No, never a smart move Larry.