There was the door, a few feet away...
and there she lay, in the creepy corner of that dark room...
Four walls that she lay in... dark creepy and cold..
each one of them closing in on her...
As though they were reaching out for her tender throat...
as she drew each breathe in she could feel them...
slowly tightening their grip on that slender throat...
fighting for that vein that danced around madly in her throat...
As the vein danced, the grip became tighter...
in the haze of the pain she found energy that pushed her to the Door...
She crawled faster and faster in that new found power...
a few feet away lay the end - the Door or death...
She knew the choice she had to make...
It was now or never...
With every step forward she knew she was slipping away...
And just then... she saw it...
The hand, in the warm glow of the door ajar...
there it was .. her elixer...
or so she thought...
her ray of light, her beacon of hope...
As she crawled and tumbled towards the door...
she felt the grips loosen around her neck...
it was as though every step closer gave her a new lease of life...
There it was, a second away ...
In that second she saw flashes of her childhood
dance in front of her eyes...
lush green fields, as she ran through them in flowing white...
danced in the afternoon breeze...
and then...
she felt different...
as though she was being sucked onto the grim walls of the room...
her lung dry and devoid of air...
her eyes , where happiness just danced, bathed in fear...
and then...
The Hand... where it belonged ...
around her delicate throat , snatching that final straw of life...
sucking life, love and hope out of every aorta of her tender being...
The Hand at the Door...
This is not a poem... dont consider it one.. read , close your eyes and imagine..
Signing off
Me
awesome!
ReplyDeleteverse that popped into my mind when i read this:
ReplyDeleteHiding behind her four walls of dread
Screaming silently for them to stop
The hand that rocked her cradle
Gripped hard on her neck
On the other side of the door ajar
Many sights lay from lands afar
A rotting corpse was all that remained
After the Hand was taken away and maimed
She did not look on the other side
Did not see that she was corpse bride
For the hand belonged to an enraged soul
Damaged and broken after life's toll
Detest and love for the black hand
Came and went like sundial sand
If only she opened that door and saw
The anger would melt, the ice would thaw
Great writing skills lady, you've earned a fan. But remember that life is not black or white. its like your most admirable writing. stuck in gray. Perspectives. All in all, I'm glad I blog-surfed today. Will be watching your space.
PS: Your imagery is beautiful. I think you're a trained painter, or you work with cameras.
hey anon!
ReplyDeletethank you but it'd be nice if u showed up with your name and all!!
and yes i am both a trained/ natural painter as well as a photographer.
Anjana
I think it'd be better if I remain as I am. So I was right about your imagery. All the best. But if I may ask, what inspired such a vision? Because I spoke from the Hand's perspective.
ReplyDelete@anon
ReplyDeleteWell suit yourself...it is a response to my common day feelings and thoughts... do you blog as well?
Everyday feelings give you such violent and dark imagery? Thats scary. Anyway, I normally do not spend too much time on one blog. Somehow I felt the need to tell you that its going to be ok, and I think I have in some form. I see great pain in your writing, as well as a fence. People generally dont write like this for everyday feelings. Some did, and they're serial killers. What I see is someone who forsook another in the name of happiness. Just remember that laughter and happiness are not the same. I am a drifter, and this will be my last comment to you in this regard. Forgive and forget. That is the only way you can be forgiven, because nobody's perfect. Take it from me, someone who is alone in the world today just because I could not forgive.
ReplyDelete@anon
ReplyDeleteNo one is denying happiness... i am much more a happier person than the one in this blog... I write dark.. I dont know why..Only my darkest and deepest thoughts come out as words...Life is about being happy :) i know and enjoy that!!
U havent answered my queston yet... you blog as well?
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI seem to like it more everytime I read it. :)
ReplyDeleteyes i do blog. like i said, i'm a drifter. i drift between worlds, people and blogs. much like a teleporter. Nightcrawler, if you please :)
ReplyDeleteHi,
ReplyDeleteBloghopped here.
Unorthodox style; queer but very interesting nonetheless.
Will definitely come back for future posts.
Hi,
ReplyDeleteBloghopped here.
Unorthodox style; queer but very interesting nonetheless.
Will definitely come back for future posts.
execellent one
ReplyDeletecongrats
by
Draupadi
Splendid and u made me churn out the memories i would love to forget
ReplyDelete