The Worsening

For Three Word Wednesday, prompt words persuasive, loud, riches. Felt like rhyming this week.

The Worsening

Black shapes against the sky
Hover, descend.
They do not make a cry
But with the blackness blend
And raise a solid wall
That will not shake or fall.

In circular silence
I try to find a door
That isn’t there. Bent
Numb fingers explore
Until persuasive despair
Calmly buzzes in my ear.

Will these dead bones live?
To sing again? I recall
Some melody through the sieve
Of my memory, small
Spent riches of sound
A dirge for the burial ground.

Yet I am not alone—
Child-like belief makes
A chink in the dark stone.
The loud creak of hell’s gates,
Startling as I spring
Free of the worsening.

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6 thoughts on “The Worsening

  1. What a fearful nightmare so well told that the prompt words are not at all noticeable (a fetish of mine to lose them in the text!) I also like the relationship to the previous owners of the land and this too in apparent in the wilds of Australia where that feeling is tangible.

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  2. Hi Nico..one dark, claustrophobic piece of poetry as well this week..'The Worsening' gives us room to experience our own nightmares and hell through him…Jae

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  3. Oldegg, It seems to depart from the purpose of prompt words to make them stand out too much. Thanks for your kind comment, as always.

    Jae, Thanks! I'm really (usually) a happy-go-lucky, well-adjusted fellow. But I'm aquainted with the darker side of existence; poetry is the best way I've found to come to terms with the whole range of life.

    Alt, The poem began from my observations of a flock of buzzards circling some dead animal–my imagination ran a little bit, and I tried to capture that atmosphere. To be compared to Sibelius is one of the kindest (and most undeserved!) compliments I can imagine. Thank you.

    Lissa, Thanks for stopping by! I'm glad you liked the rhyming–it's not everyone's cup of tea, but I enjoy doing it. I really think every poet would benefit from writing a rhyming/formal poem every once in a while. Yes, there is a hint of happy ending here–life is not all dark, or all light, but a mixture of the two.

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