Born of the dark - living within Shadows
Return to the dark
This is a continuation of my poem 'Born of the dark'
*********
Between the sheets of silence
I weep.
While winds of time stand still
Songbirds cry not for me, they lay hidden,
undisturbed
till mornings light graces sullen skies.
In the cold darkness I plead for sanity
safety
redemption
hope
peace.
Only hollow cries of despair echo back.
a needle
a pill
weed wrapped in soiled paper
The only patron saints of relief I know
though they be false prophets for the damned.
It is all that binds my frail soul from taking flight into the unknown
for if unwanted here, where would I be welcomed.
Kingdom of heaven is for the pure
Hell is where I already exist.
Though there be no fires to warm my bones
It is the cold bite of reality
letting me know I yet live.
This surreal world shatters as once again
by rough hands, lacking empathy shake me awake.
Thrust me upward.
Forced to stand upon muscle-less limbs
I stagger forward.
Voices break through the foggy fourth wall
of my one-dimensional life
Flashing lights disorient an already disoriented
Clarity is dim, yet the familiar stench of stale bodies
packed within the confines of a metal box
return me to a place I have come to know.
Patiently I await
the steady rumbling motion rocking me to slumber
with one thought before I fade into the dark
a dry place to sleep
warm food
for tonight.
It is the closest to heaven
I may ever come.
About the Creator
JBaz
I have enjoyed writing for most of my life, never professionally.
I wish to now share my stories with others, lets see where it goes.
Born and raised on the Canadian Prairies, I currently reside on the West Coast. I call both places home.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Bruce Lee and The God of War: Kuan Ti
It starts with love.. The Power to the God Of War and Wealth Walk into a Chinese restaurant (even in Oklahoma, USA), a Chinese police station, a kung fu martial arts studio or even a Chinese temple and you often see a red faced warrior holding a heavy quan-do (spear like weapon).
By WILD WAYNE : The Dragon King4 days ago in Chapters
Comments (19)
Fantastic free verse!!! Bravo!❤️❤️💕
Holy cow, Jason! It's like there was no break in this at all. What a fantastic continuation, and a tragic ending!
You slay me, the way one would slay a dragon with this poem. And part 2? Well aren’t we incredibly spoiled. I remember part one, the same voice carried over as if it never broke apart in two. Then I read the weed wrapped in soiled paper. I like that it seemed as though you have adapted the weed as your form of worship, as your form of influence. Whereas the patron saints are looked at as a people far removed, less understood because they are dead, more likely to be of help to the dead, even if they are false prophets… (might be a failed attempt at interpretation, I’m sorry) Oh the cold bite of reality, earth really be looking like we are already in Hell. Oh hell… the imagery of us living among bodies in boxes… Warm food for tonight… makes me think the warm food will only be for tonight. Makes me think of poverty, that we are ever inching closer to it. Even sporadically. Wait, carried in a vehicle to jail? I’ll continue my thought… Some days are good some days are bad. What a cold reality. Outstanding work as usual 👌🏽👏🏽
Oh that ending! WRENCHING!
A true ode to loneliness and the ache that comes with it. Beautifully sad.
Such a lonely lament. Very well penned, Jason.
Intense, with a strong narrative embedded in the lines. Well done!
This felt so hopeless and dark... well done, Jason!! Great continuation!
This is intense in a really well-executed way. I love the meandering way the poem draws the reader to the sharp end. I'm with Lamar on this one, that end was a slap! Beautifully written!
This was so hard hitting. And I gotta agree with Lamar. The ending was indeed a sobering slap. Loved your poem!
A powerful and emotional poem about one of society's harsh realities.
Oh my, Jason. Fabulous followup. Well done!
Suddenly have The Boxer playing in my head….
Nice follow up!!! There were a few lines that struck me. But it was the ending that was a sobering slap.
Gorgeous writing! Such glorious words! Well done Jason!🌸
Born of, live through, return to, left to the dark without regard or consideration. Yeah, I feel it, though not nearly to the depth others experience it.
Well-wrought! From meal to meal, not knowing when the next will come, is a hard life.
Jaba’s, this is truly stunning. I don’t recall ever reading poetry from you but damn if this it- I want more. It is so steady and beautifully paced. Every word counts like a heartbeat 💜
Thank you for sharing this. Reading your poem, I felt like I was sitting beside someone in a space too often overlooked on a cold night, in a silent corner of the world where pain doesn’t need to scream to be deafening.