LAMENT OF THE DESPAIRING SOUL
by Alan Valentine
A black mist envelopes my being like a cancer on my soul.
My windows are dark and shuttered; I can only ponder what is on the outside.
My dreams are filled with grotesque horror. Can I imagine anything worse?
I can, and do.
Apparitions ascend to the heavens and descend to the nether world of hell.
Oh lamentations of lamentations! The demon hoards are upon me, never ceasing.
I have endured these hauntings since the womb. Must they persist until the gray hairs appear?
Confusion, bafflement…I hear, but do I listen? The tapping at the door…have I gone mad?
Oh that I wish this heart inside me would stop its incessant beating.
Still tapping, but louder now. I cannot bear it!
Slowly, and ever so warily, I approach the majestic portal that leads to the outside world.
The tapping has not halted. The intensity has heightened to a maddening pitch.
I cannot bear it any longer! I must unbolt the latch to this framed structure and reveal the horror that lurks behind. I do it now!
“Dude! I’ve been texting you all day. Are you still writing those crazy depressing poems? You need to get out of here. Let’s go. I’m buying!”