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Incubus

Poem

By Shellbell kuhnPublished 7 years ago 2 min read
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Why doth ye heart fight thy logic?

In spectacle grief in one's frolic

Graves layeth open for thine tears

With gaping ears,

lest that none truly hears. Thou proclaimed to ye love,

Falling on deaf ears. The words hath been spoken only into ye fears.

Hast thou tortured thine Own love?

Shalt thou love on, or become free of?

Thy love destined thine on a painstaking path. Consumed is thou mind of thy love’s wrath

Condemned Once more

in the slumber of

Yesterday.

multi-shades of blue tunes

resonate.

He has become thine reason

to self-renovate.

Images the phoenix rising from

the ashes

Transformation of such

bring about

inevitable clashes.

The observer weathered in

one's own knowledge

The very season one seeks

to abolish.

The melting of thy own heart

onto another.

If the thing true once, It becometh

true once more. Why bother?

Hast not become bitter?

I shall take all of the remains

of thou love down to

river.

Purify, then I shall deliver.

Thou shalt not stop thee.

Thou shalt not restrain,

let there be free.

Kisses upon the misty dew.

eer of change not yet undue.

Tree’s surround me as a crowd

of alienated Judges.

Thine heart no longer in my

clutches.

I carry on down the narrowing

Trail.

I draw near the vale.

Approaching the river buried by fog.

suddenly, falling over an unnoticed log.

To the ground, I layeth in my subconscious.

Overshadowed by something

monstrous.

Not man nor creature of this

world.

Yet seductive, in nature.

onto me it hurled.

Thus while I languish

Face to face features I

could not distinguish.

Thou name?

hands Grasping my locks

with chin now turned

Upward.

Thou name?

Suddenly, The roar of thunder.

Lengthy fingers hold my chin

erect.

As to inspect...

Places palm on palm to my

chest...

With force, his hands begin

to compress.

Thoracic cavity layeth open

for thine tears.

can thou smell my fears?

perpetual Silence.

Red illuminated from

the creature's iris.

a void I see tilting side

to side.

from the light,

the creature could

no longer hide.

My name is Incubus, whispered

with hot breath onto my face.

In shadows he did depart.

thus taking what was left

of my heart.

I wake from my sleep.

Blood from flesh begins to

Seep. I stand as one, with nothing.

artlove poems
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About the Creator

Shellbell kuhn

Hi all, I am midwestern Basically I am saying You won't find any Southern Gothic, No San Francisco beats, No New York poet Because well, Where I come from we don't have a cohesive tradition.

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