Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 23, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

06-23-05 thursday 9:13pm

the verdict is true. i am as guilty as you'd always assumed.

the grass grows tall and rich in some other world i've only glimpsed.

spartans in their wooden horse are inside my skin. they crouch quietly clutching their weapons waiting for me to lose consciousness.

future not withstanding, even still, i'll let it have. past not forgetting. i forgive it.

no dream could ever be real enough to give rise again to who once i was.

no happiness so stalwart. no friend so pure. no pleasure so potent.

give the night what it wishes. the melancholy words of the disfigured and suspicious.

what darkness once meant the coming dawn. now to me only means another day to endure.

whta sicknesses should people strive to recover from. now to me only mean my cure.

06-23-05 thursday 9:45pm

it's just the world. we're just the architects. how could we have ever imagined how vast, how overwhelming a structure we would erect.

we're just rabbits. with an uncontrollable desire to make more of us. how could we have known the earth would become our victim. when we've always had so much faith in its dominance.

but smaller things in greater numbers are a greater threat than anything so large that you can so far head anticipate its attack.

it's just life. as it was so thrust upon us. every infant has the potential to die there between its mother's legs. before it ever has the chance to take its first breath. every child isn't born to live. that's merely a selfish assumption we make.

it's just the world. let us make of it what we will. suffocate in as many people as we can produce. and at last, when it dies because of us, we will too.