Poets logo

The Ever Blinding Light

I am naught but walking bones

By Varian RossPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
Like
The Ever Blinding Light
Photo by Rinck Content Studio on Unsplash

I have walked these roads searching for

a way out of this old, forgotten maze.

Thorns reach out for more

fresh skin to pierce, I travel in a daze.

As walls give way to trees, carpet to dirty stone

no stars shine here, but ahead I see a glow.

Is the light a place for me alone?

As I walk there’s whispers, voices in a row

they say I don’t belong, I am naught but walking bones.

As I walk the light grows, now I see each face;

they are bloated and yet made of stone.

Is life just a nightmare, are we all in search of grace?

On the road my memories I cannot hope to fight,

I walk, and they follow, to the ever blinding light.

surreal poetry
Like

About the Creator

Varian Ross

Horror author and poet. Published with Ghost Orchid Press and Horror Tree.

On Twitter @VarianRoss

On Patreon here [link]

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.