Stranger To Myself

Little something picked up on watching a horror show and thinking.  I’m often guilty of thinking way too much. 😉

Foul Whisperings  Strange Matters - The Sleep of a Fevered Conscience

Stranger To Myself
by Michael Romani

Purest instincts undone
A stranger to myself
As divorced from me as from anyone
As though part of me was on a shelf

From the day of your death
I became the only me I had left
The man in the mirror is no longer me
I say to you so distantly

Spoken of in whispers of doubt
There is little really to speak about
I go on biding time as it drags on
Wishing my hope for times already gone

Cast down from that heavenly throne
Cleaved into hell-bringer and always alone
This then is and remains my eternal quest
Sentenced to damnation and knowing no rest

Here comes the darkness everlasting
Annihilation of evil ever casting
The hound of God bays with pride
I stare and watch, dying from the inside

Remembered ghosts haunt from my past
The times of life slip by too fast
Happy days known bid their adieu
I whisper my goodbyes quietly to you

Cracked like an ancient mirror
Marbled with strains pressing clearer
Shards of glass hold their place
And I no longer recognize my face

(c) November 8, 2018  Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved

Foul Whisperings  Strange Matters - Cobwebs and Obstacles



About alohapromisesforever

Writer, poet, musician, surfer, father of two princesses.
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