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The Mist To The Shore

Confusion To Clarity

By Natasha HarrisonPublished 2 years ago 4 min read
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• You are far from the beach,

• It’s sand, land, and shore,

• You must row with your oar.

• You must remember before.

• Pludging In a swamp full of leech,

• Your eyes are blinded with bleach.

• In the distance,

• There is a peculiar sound.

• You look around,

• But it’s source cannot be found.

• It lingers around.

• There is dark abound,

• It shall try to make you bound,

• You fear is profound,

• It slowly compounds.

• You shall be safe and sound.

• But first, you must find safe ground.

• The fear is a hound,

• Ready to pounce & pound.

• It is on the prowl,

• It is rumbling a growl,

• It is screeching a howl.

• The fragrance of decay, debris, rot, & death,

• The stench,

• It makes you clench,

• Rotten flesh, sulphur, and rancid breath.

• The smell of all that is foul.

• The distant screeching of an owl.

• There is compounding fear,

• It is near,

• It is here.

• You must silence the violence,

• The increasing fear.

• Use your inner ear,

• & Closely hear.

• This shall keep you clear.

• The fear is in the back corners of your mind,

• A dark shroud of a cloud,

• The presence of a hiding crowd.

• Your thoughts are becoming increasingly loud.

• As you make your way away,

• Plog through the bog,

• The debris of broken logs.

There appears,

• beyond the distant pier,

• It is hard to peer,

• With the influence of the fear.

• An impenetrable and confusing smog of fog.

• You feel yourself in a clog,

• Your minds wheels a disconnected cog,

• It’s as if your intoxicated on grog.

• It clogs the mind,

• It makes clarity harder to find.

• You are not blind.

• You are not confined,

• You do not need to look behind.

• There is a whisper of a frogs croak.

• It as if you are enshrouded by a cloak.

• Do not inhale the wale of the misty smoke.

• Do not let the fear soak.

• You are amidst a mist,

• Clenching your throat with the grip of a fist.

• There is something amiss.

• You feel adrift, a rift, a swift shift within,

• It’s in your skin.

• A shark fin,

• Do not let the fear in.

• It separates you from yourself,

• As from an egg from it’s yolk,

• Apart and depart from your kin,

• Torn from your folk.

• It makes your sight dim,

• It is akin to the drinking of gin,

• It shall never allow you to awoke.

• Do not allow it to encloak,

• to envoke you with fear.

• Do not listen to it’s croak.

• Pretend it never spoke.

• This is no joke.

• You Drift on a fast raft,

• Devoid of a mast,

• It keeps you stuck in your past.

• There is the unsettling chill of a draft.

• How long shall this last?

• Shall It pass?

• Is this a pound on the door?

• A wake up call?

• Footsteps echoing down the hall?

• Is it a chiming bell?

• Time shall tell, but it may yell.

• Is it an alarm?

• Is this to cause me harm?

• There was noise,

• But now the dead silence of calm.

• The sounds of a siren,

• A SOS,

• It blares as if a fire flare,

• Do I need to beware?

• Is this a hypnotizing lullaby,

• A sirens long song?

• To invoke a deep and dreamless sleep,

• A place without tears to weep,

• Where I belong, and their is no wrong.

• To not hear the gong.

• The sirens they syre,

• Lure their victims with the music of a lyre,

• It is dire,

• Being tied to the pyre.

• To fight the flame of the fire.

• You are safe,

• You shall arrive at the moore and the shore,

• You are free to breathe,

• To grieve,

• To play, explore, and soar.

• You have all this within you,

• This and so much more,

• You are more than you know.

• You simply have to row.

performance poetry
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About the Creator

Natasha Harrison

Healing via human connection from Trauma & Abuse.

Mental Health & Illness. Neurodiversity.

Lived Experience.

https://traumasanctuary.quora.com

https://themighty.com/u/auroranatasha

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