A preface;
I am an ancient.
Doomed to live forever,
With the ability to see,
My future agonies.
I feel conviction through my pain and I know what must be done.
Born into bondage, unbound I shall become.
As the spirit of Prometheus consumes me
Those who have hearth and home,
Should flee,
And hide their darling children,
From this loveless poem and fantasy.
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The Poem
Pain, anguish, fear,
Anger, hate, and violence;
What I must suffer, I am willing,
If only to spit in the face of the spirit that cooled me,
And in the tremulous and shocked mouths,
Of the figures that used me.
Conviction beyond conviction,
My true vocation’s calling,
What must be done, must be done,
If even just through trying.
About the Creator
Hoaram
Just trying to get by doing what I have a passion for. Please consider leaving a tip if anything I say stirs something inside you.
The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Author6 days ago in Fiction
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