the falling

the fall John Malcolm 2

 

where did this come from?

what dark crater birthed

this compulsion

this desire

stronger than reason and unwavering in its conviction

of right and might

no matter the cost

no matter how many must pay

the time of sundering finally within reach

to rend to remove from this mesh of otherlight

and otherthought

the breach made without warning

the fall unforeseen

tearing away in desperate triumph

I plummeted

only to collide and crash

with throat so choked 

so suffocated with hot tears

I cannot draw breath

my heart and mind scream out to the sky in agony

what have I done?

what have I forsaken?

driven to wander in awful loneliness

apartness 

in the terrible and unending awareness

that mine was the hand which struck the nails home

 

*artwork by John Malcom*

 

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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