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Void of the Lost Darkness

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I am an empath which means I can "feel" others emotions and feelings as well as put into words things others would find hard to understand.


Paint it Black

Darkness, pitch black, find me, unlighted, unlit, where am I? dim, dusky, murky, gloomy, shadowy, somber, hear me, cloudy, foggy, sunless, lightless, indistinct, I'm falling through existence, dull, faint, vague, misty, tears of coldness fall down my cheeks, darkish, deep, drab, dingy, unknown footsteps, obscure, nebulous, shady, shaded, clouded, darkened, overcast, shadows distort my view, lowering, Cimmerian, opaque, crepuscular, Stygian, without light, the blackness swallows my frightened form, tenebrous, bereft of light, ill-lighted, inky, words surreptitiously scratched, pitch-dark, black,
These are incandescent voids within my mind.
I've gone dark, No longer visible.
Bereft of image, in a place of isolated singularity.
Sound, there is only tinnitus monotonous echoes of familiar tranquility.
Stillness, of air eddies like translucent fingers of silence.
Alone in a vacuum of space, spinning turning tumbling.
Who am I?
Where are you?
The blackness of the tomb, it's walls of stone constricting, squeezing.
A single point of light throbs in the disappearing distance.
I can't reach it.
It is the echo of my heartbeat, like a display upon the screen of a monitor.
Breathing, vapour expanding into nothingness.
Lost, disjointed paralyzed distended into a frozen miniscule moment.
This is where I am.
Indisposed undiscovered forgotten, clinging on to life.

Lost inside a dream,

memories taunting me,

shadows of mystery,

where I used to be.

Echoes of disbelief,

pulsates upon the floor,

culminates in raptures,

knocking at my door.

Kisses oh so tender,

whisper on the breeze,

darkness seems to follow me,

then brings me to my knees.

Lies wrapped around truth’s,

the tongue delights and shames,

words both bless and curse,

the righteous always blamed.

Beauty robs the lazy gaze,

and painted smiles disrupt,

eyes closed distort the view,

choices become corrupt.

Pictures paint a thousand words,

yet lips defy the reason,

secrets drip like falling rain,

amidst the driest season.

Perfect strangers wonder by,

without a backward glance,

invisible to all those around,

won't even take a chance.

Pebbles on a rocky shore,

scrape beneath your feet,

whistling wind calls your name,

but only echoes do you meet.

You see a face from out the blue,

with lips that smoulder bright,

eyes that seem to radiate hope,

like a beacon in the night.

© 2019 Mark

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