under it

everything is cluttered, dusty
an old bookshelf dying in an ancient mansion
manuscripts — words upon words
pressed, inked, forgotten
stacked on wooden shelves in dreary hallways
dark winds howl through
cracked windows and shattered moonlight
illuminate ideas left for the dead

an invisible force behind sleepless eyes
weighs down life
every step, fraught with fear
every breath a life altering decision
a pendulum of momentum
towards peace — hurtling back towards
anonymity
worlds of eyeless faces
dripping from bones
staring into blank pages
empty parchment of unfulfilled dreams
delirious and soaking with words yet spoken

my god
my god
where have i forsaken you

in memories these hopes were yours
spun on silent records from above
broadcast to hungry ears in
cold beds of
lonely bodies

i run down black corridors
lined with beautiful spines
letters and names screaming
pitch black voices
footsteps echo
faster
faster faster faster
knees buckle, ankles swell, toes break
pushed against thousands of heavy books
rheumy eyes and weak muscles
buried alive under tumbling
words

~ by kevinthomas on April 15, 2009.