A Villanelle of Private Hell
Of Darkness and Memory
I should have clasped you ere the darkness fell
That single hour returns to haunt my brain
And what I lost becomes my private hell
Each midnight strikes its deep and doleful knell
I pace these shadowed halls and call your name
I should have clasped you ere the darkness fell
Within my skull your phantom voice does dwell
It whispers of that moment once again
And what I lost becomes my private hell
No wine nor sleep can break the maddening spell
No reason silences this dread refrain
I should have clasped you ere the darkness fell
The living envy those who in graves do dwell
For death brings peace while I endure this pain
And what I lost becomes my private hell
My soul is chained within this ghastly cell
Where memory cuts deeper than a chain
I should have clasped you ere the darkness fell
And what I lost becomes my private hell
About the Creator
Tim Carmichael
Tim is an Appalachian poet and cookbook author. He writes about rural life, family, and the places he grew up around. His poetry and essays have appeared in Bloodroot and Coal Dust, his latest book.
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More stories from Tim Carmichael and writers in Poets and other communities.
"Hear Me Out"
"Hear me out, what if we ran away together?" "Where do you want to go?" "Anywhere but here. We could move to a new city or to Canada, or we could disappear from society to live in the middle of the woods. Maybe a combination of two of those things would be good. What do you say?"
By Kay Husnick6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Perfect repetition of a line worthy of Poe
stunningly sad and felt deeply
Repitition of your line adds the feel of madness taking over ones mind. Unsettling memeories can be there own type of prison of which there is no escape. You made this clear and that in itself is horrifying