we can feel as hollow as termite-infested wood at times


Eyes that flicker, and the screen follows.
The abyss extends infinitely,
Through the glass and pixels
Through the never-ending black
Into chambers of hot air and disappointment.

Burning the midnight oil,
Not in the company of a few good men,
Or even anyone at all anymore.
But the bundle of fur still lays at my feet
As I creak the wooden plank open

Cryogenically motionless,
There is nothing worth snapping for
So here I stay, floating through
Time and space abstract-like,
In the land of the zombies
And the dead crashing into the undead.

I can hardly feel movement within my skin
Perhaps the oil of hope has leaked out
Of course, it is the most perilous contraction
But still the void grows,
And neither words nor pictures come to mind,
Just the promise of eternity waiting to fail expectation.

Poetry by Caila Ihle
Read 607 times
Written on 2006-10-03 at 10:11

Tags Failure  Emptiness 

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

This is when you need your faith!!!