In Darkened Fog 2

Upon his head he wears a crown,

A title he bears, notoriously renowned.

Born not into royal pedigree, but with

A claim staked in blood-stained treasonry.

He has no land, no castle to dwell,

His empire is vast – a mental hell.

Thick and heavy there he sits,

Like frost he heaves, her soul fractured thick.

Down down he lurks like blackened gold,

A seeping darkness, a force to behold.

Fathered in time, in whispers he weaves,

In words of untruth, he now plants his seed.

In hollowed exhale he breathes death’s life,

To shroud and veil his prey this night.

Tick tick he stalks, his timing must wait,

A grand debut – this soul he must take.

Like lightin’ he dives, strikin’ hard and quick,

To rawness of heart and mind he trick’s.

Like slivers shived in a shivered quake,

Her mind succumbs, her backbone breaks.

Her life now drained, her body lay limp,

Her copulated soul soon his to pimp.

I’ll hold and keep you, with glory and might

He whispers sweet nothings in poisoned delight.

His voice secretes like molten molasses,

It lingers and brands all desire to ashes.

To have and to hold her, in death she will part,

Sealed with a kiss of an infidel’s heart.

Translucent her skin, her lips drained red,

His fingers of death now embeded and webbed.

His breath now bates as his heartbeat waits,

With snake-like stealth he has set his bait.

There she lays with death’s dark eyes,

Starring onward and upward to distant skies.

Her darkened fog and billowed soul, has been

Shot dead – point blank, with Satan’s pistol.

In echoed sound, distant and faint,

She hears a voice cry “HER DEATH MUST WAIT!

Vague were their memory sitting on the tip of her tongue,

In the depths of her being, new hope has sprung.

Strange in it’s mystery yet familiarly known,

With each word spoken, new strength is sown.

STAND UP!” She hears. Her voice surreal –

Audibly present and internally real.

Upright she stands, in morals and ground,

A victorious defeat, for “Death be not proud.”

He’s a deceiver of lies, untruths and untrusts,

His foothold is shallow, his demise a must.

The dawning breaks lending light to her eyes,

A wellspring of hope in her heart now lies.

In darkened fog, her soul he once caged,

The absence of light now ignited and flamed.

In life we die a thousand life deaths,

Blinded by lies, thought beaten in best.

The enemy lurks, his shape transforms,

For he goes by names of many forms –

Fear, depression, guilt and unworth,

The Father of Lies over children of earth.

When dark times cloud in thick skies of grey,

The sun must set to start a new day.

~Jennel Harder

*edited and expanded for Boquette Panama Authors Group

 

3 comments

  1. Wow, this is a BIG poem, lots of imagery! I’m going to have to read it a few more times to get the full impact.. It’s sort of frightening but I’m pretty sure it’s more than just good versus evil. Or maybe that’s exactly what it’s about?

    Like

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