Poem: "The Dark Reaches"

The Dark Reaches

By: Eve Estelle

Hear me...

...I am the whistle in the wind,

The footfalls behind you;

I am the bones that rattle

Behind dusty doors,

I am the whispers in your ear;

I am your Fear.

Feel me...

...I am the silent witness,

The chronic itch;

I am the shiver run up your spine,

The creep of sensation --

My vocation,

As the eyes upon your back;

Paranoia.

See me...

...I am the darkness;

The shadows in your peripheral;

I am the truth behind the lie,

A stranger under the rose,

Its familiar keeper;

Visceral,

Insanity.

Name me.

I am the dividing line at sanity's edge,

I thrive in the mind's hidden reaches;

I am the guttural scream from within,

And out,

I am the wicked wave of doubt;

Lucid death.

Behold, Nightmare.

Author's note: Two poems in less than two weeks? Houston, we require a new fire to be lit down in Hell -- I think it may have frozen over.

*chuckles* How are all of ya? This was a poem that was actually originally written for Vani's digital magazine, The Pearls of Catharsis Times, quite a while ago. Howeverrrr, with the closure of Google+, the magazine's future is a bit uncertain, and Vani has given me permission to go ahead and post it. It's been revised from the one I sent her -- whether or not that means "better." though, is still TBD. 😉

Happy Spring.