03 November, 2010

The Gauntlet

This poem is from my second compilation of poetry “The Dim Light”. The last three (The Battle…, Elijah Robert…& Asher Michael…) were from my third “Gray Matters”. I honestly don’t know (or remember) why I was so intent (some say obsessed) on writing this. I just had in my mind an ironic tragedy and this is what came out, I hope you enjoy it.


The Gauntlet
Nothing had ever fazed his faze-less face,
particular phases failed to crack an interest.
Depression scaled up bare walls to the base,
letting insanity outside to be witnessed.

So day after day, he would curse aloud
at himself and at anything he resented.
He would carry with him a darkened cloud
which was evident and clearly represented.

He never once thought that his daily smokes
would bring repercussions too massive to believe.
But all the while death rode on silent spokes
waiting for enough damage to go and retrieve.

When she was diagnosed, he vowed to quit,
but it was too late, the damaged had quickly spread.
She grew weak, his nightmare…an exhibit,
he longed desperately for his own death instead.

His wife urged him to stop; she bid advice
so he tried and tried until he was out of tries.
But she had ended up paying the price,
because cancer confiscated his only prize.

Suicide wouldn’t let them reunite
so everyday after he would become bolder.
He took chances deemed careless, or not right
and the blame had laden the weight of a boulder.

And right up until the end of his days
the blame was still buried inside of his burden.
The burden’s blaze engulfed a vacant glaze
to which he wore until the fall of the curtain.