Rancor River

Rancor River

Softly sings the river,
slowly dying in its bed.
With ugly scars remaining
where once the river fed.
Sitting in Her sunlight,
the putrid water’s not so red,
but the days have grown quite short.
Winter lies ahead.

When Her sunlight shines
the river dries, for a little while.
But night, it seems, is full of screams,
and questions that defile.
So as Her sunlight fades away,
this creek becomes the Nile.
Yet as the river grows, you know,
its waters saturate with bile.

Slowly now, the river flows,
though questions still remain.
The anesthetic comes, not from a needle,
but from the draining of the vein.

Bury Me Deeper

Bury Me Deeper

Once again the spade lies muddy
and the grave I dug is bloody.
The past I thought was buried deep.
The scars I thought were all I’d keep.
But enter now a new contender,
to play the misbegotten mender.
My memories in my ears like thunder,
I gave my trust, was torn asunder,
and found that I’d been left for dead
with no reason why I’ve bled.
Lying here, amongst the lifeless,
my soul is split with bloody rifeness,
I fear that I will soon be cleansed
of reasons left for making friends.

Drink in the Darkness

Drink in the Darkness

Open the abyss.
Swallow me whole.
Take one final kiss,
and then take my soul.
This dank Nothingness,
pervading my senses.
My thoughts are amiss.
I have no defenses
from the bleak and the heartless.
So into the darkness
I lay my head,
and swallow that
which would kill me instead.

No Fight for Life

So, I'm not sure I like the title, and I think the poem itself could still use a lot of work. Let me know what you think and, as always, I'm open to suggestions.

No Fight for Life

Lost, are the freedoms I cherish,
and now my world is nightmarish.
Slowly, to my rage I lost control.
Now I feel nothing: I cannot be whole.
My vote was cast, we came in last,
and here I am, imprisoned as an outcast.
The new king has stolen the throne
and my life; I am no longer my own.
Soon, I’ll lose the thoughts inside my head;
he’s already censoring all that’s said.
My speech restricted, my property confiscated,
till I’m left with nothing, but still he’s not sated.
There will be no war. There won’t be a fight.
There will be just the slaughter of all on the right.
This dynasty has fallen. The world’s not far behind.
The struggle has been lost to the voting of the blind.

My Sanctuary

My Sanctuary

Exhilaration feeds my mind
as I glide along in ecstasy.
I am alone, but jubilant:
I celebrate this loneliness.

Fear evaporates much faster
than this wondrous freedom,
and I begin to explore a new world.

Still in awe, I hold my breath,
hoping that I can stay forever
in this place of perfect serenity.

Here I am free of many things;
I have freedom of motion,
but I cannot talk.
I enjoy the silence, though,
and I love the freedom to listen.

My life is in my own hands,
and I am free to be me.

Quickly, though, my excitement fades,
and as I rush away from this world,
I wish my time here wasn’t over.

The surface breaks and I breathe in,
ready to revisit my bright sanctuary.