My Darkest Day (an old poem)
The Autumn chill sets in;
An eerie silence whispers on the wind;
It doesn’t muffle what’s stirring in my head.
All my thoughts seem grim;
This vast emptiness collapsing in;
A hallow chorus chanting “go into the light.”
The light it fades;
Soaked and stained;
Stained by my darkest days.
Darkness bleeds throughout;
Carried by the brush strokes of doubt;
Does nothing ever comfort the screaming?
Where does it start or end;
This madness, I’m slipping in;
Slightly touched by March’s wicked grin.
The laughter dissipates;
Cloaked and weeping;
Weeping for my darkest days.
The new day, asked me why;
Am I wasting his precious time;
Posing questions only answered in my mind.
Might be better if it fails;
Cause there’s no wind to drive the sails;
Thus I am so tired of waiting to exhale.
My time dissipates;
No one else will wait;
Wait out the dawn on my darkest day.
– T.C. Downey/Beast Xeno 2013