Futility

Leaning against the wall
breath coming in gasps
eyes darting around
knowing that soon
I will have to run again.
‘It is futile to run’
the voice hisses in my ear
as startled
I dash off again.
‘Round and round
an endless maze
all while the voice crawls closer.
Oozing
black shadows
piercing through the gloom
no matter where I hide
no matter how hard I run
they are still there
voices
shadows
insanity.
Wallls built of my memories
move ever closer
confining me
jailing me
no way for my escape.
I scream in terror
I scream in rage
sick of this torment
I want it all to end.
Sept. 6/18

 

Photo by Andrei Lazarev on Unsplash

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Nightmare Beings

Nightmare beings
fall from the sky
wings held back
as they dive
looking for the score.
For each terror
for each torment
the devils do march
ferocious snarls
teeth bared
the protectors of children spent.
Tossed up
caught within a web
tangled within sins
unrepented.
Black widow venom
shoots through the veins
paralyzing
immobilizing
filling one with dread.
Wrapped within silken strands
I watch as you struggle
your freedom an illusion.
I shall eat your heart
the way you stole my dreams
remorseless
with blood dripping from my mouth.
Jay-lyn Doerksen
June 17/18

Queen of Fools

A Queen
born to a court of Fools.
Laughing and playing.
Praying and feinting.
Secrets made bold by blood.
Backrooms
filled with smoke
bourbon
opiates
all are content
for never the truth
be told.
Standing upon the world stage
blinded by power and indifference
orphaned and forlorn
a child discarded.
Broken and battered.
Scattered from here to there.
Seeds sown on the wind
war is coming
annihilation has begun.
Tears escape
scalding hot
as carnage
does unfold.
Queen of Fools
in a court of gold
worshipped a diety
bowing beneath the blows.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Slow Waltz

Crimson streaks
splashed across the mirrors
pulsing
flashing
calling to arms
the dead and waiting.
Overdoses and murders
suicides and rapes
we await
we dream
of a time when we shall reap.
Moving through crowds of uncaring
stalking through shadows
staining the souls
of those without.
Copper hued threads
spattered
unseen
mark you as my tormentor.
I screamed
I fought
I lost to you
the reality of this world.
I creep along the blackest alleys
toiling on hands and knees
peering feral
waiting to appease.
My hunger.
Your pleasure.
My malevolence.
Your desire.
Twined….
Unparted….
locked forever
in a slow waltz
through the halls of hell.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen