16. A Haunted Escapade

(Sonnets)

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> Now, whenever I pass by our 2nd floor corridor in the house, I imagine seeing a pale girl in a Victorian style dress holding up an axe, by the top of the stairs.

>

> —Eleonne Moona (from Wattpad)

1. The Scroll

I am alone, cut off from all the things

   That used to bring me joy; I am a shell

Of what I was, a husk of bitter stings

   That shock each beating pulse! This hell

Of my own mind, of my own making, still

   Provides the burning ember of creation

Inside this haunted mind. I take this quill

   And dip it in the blood of my damnation

And write the sentence of my penance here

   Upon this very scroll you’re reading now;

I know you’re reading this, but do not fear,

   For I’ll be with you to the end somehow,

      Even as day shall bleed to endless night

      That snuffs the flame of courage into fright . . .

2. The Room

A thousand worries kept me from the fold

   Of gentle sleep, because it was the time

   When everything that crept commits a crime

Against the vulnerable, the young and bold,

Whose plastic minds have conjured up a field

   Of sleepless dreams that swim before their eyes—

   Of monsters harking to their startled cries

When heedless parents fail to come and shield

Their sons and daughters from the looming threat;

   But even when they come to comfort them,

Their presence driving ghouls back in retreat,

   They come back once they’re gone to make us scream:

      I screamed, but still my parents heard me not;

      This room has teeth, and in its jaws I’m caught.

3. The Screams

The screams of Hell awoke me from my slumber,

   As something sharp had spiked me through the heart;

   Flinging the sheets, I sat up with a start,

My mind submerged in worries without number

Over the lunacies that still encumber

   My waking life with thoughts of cruel despair,

   Because my childhood died upon the air

On this ungodly night! I still remember

(By God, I still remember) how their screams

   Have scraped the silence bare, have left the strings

   Of love to rot, have poisoned words, have springs

Of blood and tears bleed out, have filled my dreams

   With visionary traumas traced with hate:

   Such was my lot, and such is now my fate.

4. The Monsters

How can I sleep? A pandemonium

   Of bitter screams and yet more arguments

   Corrupt the sleepless night with monuments

Of hate and inner pain that leave me numb,

As if my world has fallen from a crumb

   Of discontent, my prayers mere ornaments!

   What origins, what foul determinants,

Fester my life with such a horrid outcome?

I left the bed and crept out past the door,

   Then through the hallway, down the stairs, then halted

Before the ruckus of my parents' war

   Inside the family room: they both assaulted

      Each other with their words like saber-cuts,

      The floor beneath them splayed with blood and guts.

5. The Entrapment

I gasped and faltered in my step, then froze,

   Feeling the goosebumps resurrect my skin

   With horrid premonitions from within,

As though my body knew these awful throes

Of sudden revelation might disclose

   My presence to the monsters in their fight:

   The screams have stopped, and so I take my flight

Through staircase, hallway, bedroom door, and shadows,

Whereat I slammed the door and propped a chair

Against the knob, then waited in despair:

   I backed myself against the corner, crying.

Their prowling footsteps creaked upon the stair,

Reverberating through the midnight air:

   Now trapped inside my room, I felt like dying.

6. Their Voices

Their footsteps creaked upon the staircase, through

   The hallway, getting louder than before,

   And halted on the threshold of my door,

Where something dark formed underneath and grew

Across the carpet of my room towards me;

   And so I turned the lamp, and back it shrank,

   Leaving the carpet wet whereon it stank

Of blood, the stench of which assaults and swords me.

I vomited the contents of my stomach,

   Whereat my parents said, “Are you all right?”

   And all my nerves then shook in utter fright:

Besides the sight of blood, besides its haemic *

   Stench, their voices scraped the air in monstrous notes,

   As if the speakers in them were but Goats.

7. No Escape **

Their voices scraped the air, and gentle rapping

   Upon the door now turned to hammer blows;

They said, “Come out, come out, our little sapling!

   Come out, or else we’ll cut off all your toes!”

I scrambled to my feet, then grabbed a bat

   And broke my window pane, while hammer fists

Broke through the panels, claws ripped through with splat

   After splat of something bleeding from cut wrists.

I scrambled through the broken window pane,

   But clawed hands grabbed my ankles, and I screamed:

Their claws cut through the skin, and all the pain

   I felt filled up the night with cries undreamed

Of in my nightmares, held in place, then lifted

   Aloft in two firm grasps outside my window;

So looking up through tears, I saw the shifted

   Faces of my two parents, grinning with no

      Soul in their eyes: they dropped me, and I fell

      Down to my death below me, down to Hell!

8. My Depression ***

A hell far worse than Hell itself, a hell

   I’ve carried deep inside my weary brain,

   Now bleeds out through my ears and eyes like rain:

A thousand hateful words have rung the knell

Of deep regrets that hang on lips of death;

   A thousand spiteful looks have etched disdain

   On fading looks of cheer that still remain,

Etched slowly with the passage of each breath.

If words of love have lifted me to Heaven,

   And words of hate have dragged me down to Hell,

      Such words have carved out suicidal thoughts

      Inside this mind that slowly—slowly—rots:

   So if you think that I was just unwell,

You saw not, heard not, knew not, never even

         Attempted to believe in

The demons that have spawned inside my head,

Because you thought that everything I said

         Was just a made-up thread

Of lies! Your words of doubt have carved a tomb

Inside my mind, wherein my thoughts of doom

         Have buried me in gloom.

9. The Neighborhood

Before me was the moonlit street at night,

   Stretching to greater distances of shades

   And shadows like the yawning realm of Hades;

With street lamps flick’ring in and out of sight,

I gazed once more upon that house of spite,

   Then turned my steps beyond this neighborhood

   That used to be the center of my childhood,

Where neighbors waved, and I laughed in delight.

Dear Rudy used to walk his nightly rounds

   Upon these sidewalks ere his life had fled;

So when I heard his footfalls on the grounds,

   I turned and saw him walking up ahead:

      And so I flew and held his ghostly hand,

      Then walked and walked into the Borderland.

10. The Borderland

The way was dark on which we walked,

   As though the starlit canopy of night

   Has faded past the edge of living sight,

Enclosing us inside a realm where stalked

The countless footless footfalls of the dead

   And creatures yet unheard and yet unseen

   To ears and eyes unused to such a scene,

Unknown to all the knowledge in my head,

And stabbing at my heart with beats of dread.

   Then to my eyes a gleam of ghostly green

Lit up the starless canopy o’erhead,

   Revealing a projector-lighted screen,

      And there my parents lying on the floor;

      So Rudy spoke his wisdom like a mentor:

11. His Wisdom ****

“By making fate our choice, the blocks of our existence

   Well-spent or wasted, we create our road through this,

A long and winding road of endless cares, a sentence

   Of woe that pledges all and gives to none its bliss.

When we set down these stones of mortal destiny

   Upon the naked bedrock of our mortal lives,

Consider ere you act on that uncertainty

   Of endless possibilities that life contrives.

Because no matter what your good or bad intentions,

   They matter not to Him that holds the deadly blade;

The question's not how we escape His grim attentions,

   For He'll succeed upon our lives, our dues repaid:

      It's how we take our steps to meet Him on the chase,

      Opposing fate itself when Death breathes in your face.”

12. The Runaway

So said the ghost of Rudy as he faded

   Away amidst that spectral green of death,

   For ages passed since he had lost his breath

And walked his living rounds alone, unaided

By other men of courage. Here I took

   Those words of wisdom in my hand and chucked

   Them to the skies, then breathed in deep and sucked

The air into my lungs and, with one look

Around me, breathed out all the pent-up anguish

   Over my parents’ fall from grace to Hades;

   Now shapes around me followed in the shades

Of lamplit sidewalks where I used to languish

   With all my friends. And so I picked my feet up

   And ran and ran and ran, trying to speed up!

13. The Chase

Running along the lamplit streets devoid

   Of any living footfalls save my own,

Running past every house towards a void

   I could not see (nor moonlight could have shown),

I felt the chill of something running with me

   As if the strides of Death himself were there,

And felt the smooch of Death’s queer lips to kiss me

   As I began to huff and puff the air.

Yet as I slowed, a-panting clouds of breath,

   I looked behind and saw nobody nigh:

Only the silence of the dead—of death—

   Was there to greet the ear, and not the eye.

      Behind me were the ghosts of many woes;

      Beyond me lay the promise of more sorrows.

14. The Alleyway *****

A movement from the corner of my eye

   Catches me off my guard, and when I peer

   Into an alleyway, the atmosphere

Around me chills my forearms with a sigh

Of night wind flowing through my flannel clothes;

   I turn around and spy the empty streets

   Where not a living footfall ever greets

Me with the taps of someone there. The shadows

That loom about me creep along the wall,

   Whereon I trace the almost unseen motion

   Of something in the distance, whose emotion

Resembles that of someone’s beck and call;

And so I tread my steps with open eyes,

   Alert and wary, on the cusp of fear

   For anything amiss o’er there or here,

Expecting something underneath these skies.

15. The Knight

The world was full of ghosts that night, replete

   With unseen footfalls striding ‘round about me,

For everywhere I looked upon the street

   Was nothing there (oh, reader, do not doubt me!);

But on those flagstones up ahead, I halted

   To find my bearings on this lonesome night,

And found a shadowed figure ‘neath the vaulted

   Passage that blocked my way: it was a Knight

In bloody armor, sword tip perched upon

   The grouting, pommel cupped in armored gloves,

      And through its visor burning eyes within

      That seemed to gaze out from deep pools of sin;

   So here I stood, when flocks of scattered doves

Flew overhead, until I saw them gone.

16. The Follower

I took a backward step and then another,

   But on my third, that stationary Knight

Took three steps forward, matching mine together

   With heavy footfalls thumping through the night;

Then all was silent after that, a mere

   Reverberation through the nighttime static,

But when I turned and ran away from here,

   I chanced a glance behind me in the frantic

Moments when all my courage seemed to fade

   Upon the sight of that surreal pursuer

      Gaining upon my heels! Then up ahead:

      Another shambling Knight without a head!

   Was this a figment of an addled viewer?

Was it my fate to die this way? Afraid?

17. The Sleep of Fear

Closing my eyes, I waited for the blows

   To cut me up asunder like a ham,

   Waiting and waiting for th’ expected wham

Of searing edges through my sweat-soaked clothes;

I waited for a second more and froze,

   Expecting something horrible to slam me,

   Then opened up my eyes—dear Christ, God damn me,

I’m still alive, though shaking from my toes

Unto the hairs arising from my neck!

   All strength within my legs and knees go slack,

      And down upon the cobblestones I go

   And drift away to sleep upon my back,

A shell-shocked heap of flesh, a shattered wreck

      Of who I was and what I used to know.

18. The Yellow-Brick Road

I’ve swooned, and in this swoon, perchance I’ve dreamed

   A nightmare reaching out with withered hands,

   Grasping and pulling at its rusty bands

Of iron chains restraining it, it seemed;

But when I woke and oped my eyes, I screamed ******

   And sprinted down a road of yellow brick,

   For there behind me rode a phantom quick

As death in jangling carriage riding teamed

Horses that winnowed screams and snorted fire

   And stomped a tune of thunder at my heels!

I ran and huffed and ran and huffed in dire

      Straits of sheer desperation, till my knees

   Gave out. I slowed, collapsed, until the wheels

      Of that grim carriage slowly ‘gan to ease.

19. The Grim Reaper ****

Turning around, I spied the coachmen seated there,

   Wrapped in a shawl and wearing on its face a grinning

   Mask; I just stood there staring as I was beginning

To fathom its intentions waiting for me here,

Here in this limbo floating in suspension, where

   A thousand unseen horrors lay in wait, a-pinning

   Me here upon this sordid road and slowly winning

Over my steps toward its brougham door for fear

Of what was out there, lurking. Here I stepped inside

   And found a shawl draped over my own shoulders with

A mask appearing on my face; I wrapped the wide

Girth of the shawl around me, sat upon the side

   Seat of a bench that faced the back bench, and forthwith

   Found a hooded Reaper sitting there without a scythe!

20. The Scary Faces

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Ah, one by one, four other seated fiends

   (Two sitting right beside me, and two more

Beside the Reaper) then appeared like friends

   All headed for a party on the dance floor:

A withered Shade and Hag sat to my right,

   The Shade with see-through body, head, and face,

The Hag with glaring eyes and grinning bite

   That chattered with her dentures still in place;

A smelly Ghoul and grinning Cheshire Cat

   Were sitting by the hooded Reaper’s side,

Both leering at me where I gulped and sat

   And trembled at their glances on this ride!

      Ah, how I trembled at these glaring monsters,

      While masquerading me played the imposter!

21. The Mansion ****

I saw the melancholy house slip into view

   While I accompanied the monsters going there,

   And all around me ghastly passersby did stare

And laugh at me, a hapless visitor who drew

His steps along their grim procession! Ah, but how

   Was I to know their teeming thoughts in this parade?

   For here I walked with monsters, walking in charade

With that Grim Reaper by my side through shade and shadow!

Now following along towards the looming house

   Atop the hill and through its creaking double doors

   And down the entrance hall and winding corridors,

I passed beneath the shades and lamplights like a mouse

   About to be ensnared and trapped! Dear God, what horrors

   Lie there beyond those waiting double doors of terror?

22. The Mask

The doors then swung into a nightmare filled

   With masquerading monsters! Some were dancers:

   Ghosts, Goblins, Witches, Vamps, and Necromancers;

And some were drunks: Hags, Ghouls, and Shades have spilled

The punch they gorged, while drunken Devils swilled

   The absinthe. All were dressed, yet none wore masks:

   Only the Dullahans with helmet-casques

And hooded Reapers hid their face. All stilled

Upon the sight of me within their midst,

   Accompanied by my companion Reaper

      Standing beside me, while the others stared;

The Reaper then took off her hood amidst

      The gasps of shock and awe, while I was scared

   To look when she said, “Ope your eyes, oh Sleeper . . .” ******

23. The Axe-Girls

I’ve swooned, and in that swoon, I might have screamed it

   A thousand times on waking up to stairs

   That stretched towards me, making all the hairs

Upon my neck stand up; I might have dreamed it

In half-forgotten thoughts, but I esteemed it

   With wide-eyed paranoia at its presence

   Just sitting in that momentary silence;

I might have, in a lighter humor, deemed it

A harmless staircase with the lights turned on,

   Yet through its bright enclosure on the landing

      That rose before me as I turned my gaze,

   I saw a pair of little girls there standing

With axes in their hands and their heads gone:

      I bolted down the hallway in a craze!

24. Hide and Seek *****

With beating heart, I scurry like a mouse

   From room to room to hide myself inside

   A dingy closet, while the girls outside

Were stalking through the hallways of the house;

With bated breath, I listen to their tread

   Creaking along the floor like that of felines

   Stalking their prey, while I slink through the confines

Of hanging clothes towards the wall in dread!

What’s this I feel, as I now wrap my grasp

   Around a hard metallic sphere? A knob?

   And when I grasp and turn it ‘round, a throb

Of recognition thunders out a gasp

Of hope, just as their steps approach my room!

   I push the door and pass the threshold floor

   Before they pull aside the closet door . . .

And find myself outside an open tomb.

25. The Rat Man ***

I turned around: the door into the tomb

   Was shut! So when I cast my wayward gaze

   Over the headstones through the graveyard haze,

I thought I saw a shape move through the gloom

Between the gravestones; down between these tombs

   Of ancient yore I tread my weary route

   In search of that elusive shape without

A clue wherein this gloom of glooms

It went. I threw my gaze from side to side,

   Looking for that fell shape, when something close

Said in a whisper’s breath, “The mirror lied!”

   I turned around just as the sharpest dose

Of searing fire erupted through my throat:

And in my sights there flashed the bloody cutthroat,

         The Rat Man’s awful gloat

Laughing into my ears. I then beheld

The crimson glint of his knife’s edge and smelled

         My blood, as it expelled

The screaming ghost of my blaspheming soul

Out of my bloody throat onto the scroll

         Of Hell without parole!

26. The Clowns

I then awake unto the sound of bells

   Now clanging out the tune of many dirges,

   Rousing my heartbeats through my veins in surges

Of dread and pain; yet as my blood dispels

Such poisons from my veins, I quell the yells

   And screams still raging through my ringing ears,

   Till (drip by drip) I cry cathartic tears

Of sweet relief through fits of laughing spells. . . .

That is, until more laughter from the dark

   Approaches me: I scramble to my feet

   As something over there begins to greet

Me with another bout of laughter. Hark!

   Another fit of laughter stirs behind me,

   At which I find two laughers have confined me!

27. The Harlequin

I dashed away from those two sordid clowns

   And footed it beyond their sordid laughter,

Footing it through the woods until their sounds

   Have faded from the night. With threats of slaughter

Now far behind me, I then trekked my way

   Into the creeping woods and saw a man

In checkered costume look my way and say,

   “Who are you, stranger? What’s your sordid plan?”

I said, “I have no sordid plans or fell designs,

   For I have lost my way amid these woods

And need a place to stay.” I’ve said my lines;

   He said, “I know a place of many goods

      For you to eat and drink.” He bade me follow;

      And so I tailed him through the wooded hollow.

28. The Bunny Man

We reached his cabin in the woods, where he

   Invited me into his house and offered

Some victuals and ready drinks for me;

   I then forgot the horrors that I’ve suffered

And stepped inside and made myself at home.

   I ate and drank unto my heart’s content,

While he informed me of the weird and gruesome

   Crimes of a wanted felon: “The extent,”

He said, “of this man’s crimes are legendary.

   And so, we’ve dubbed this man the Bunny Man,

For he commits his crimes inside the very

   Costume that gives his epithet, this beast-man:"

      And yet, so long as you stay here with me,

      You’ll be as safe as anyone can be!”

29. The Pick-Axe **

I thanked him for his hospitality

   And told him of the horrors I have seen

During the nightmares of my wayward journey,

   Till I grew tired with talking. Then the scene

Began to change before my weary eyes,

   For ere I was about to fall asleep,

My host began to don a queer disguise,

   A bunny suit, a wolf among the sheep!

I sprang unto my feet, but when I did,

   I felt my legs give out from under me;

By God, he’s spiked the drink! And so amid

   My struggles to get up, I start to pee

Myself when I saw him take up a pick

   From off his wall and head for me; he kicked

Me over on my back and ‘gan to stick

   It through my chest and abdomen, then picked

      My head into a pulp of skull and flesh,

      While through the awful pain, I screamed afresh!

30. The Axe-Man

I then awoke, a-screaming out my voice

   Into the godless night, until the hills

   Echoed before me with the phantom trills

Of fright; yet for a time, the awful noise

Carried and changed its tune to that of boys’

   Laughter throughout the night; and for a time,

   I then descended down the grassy climb,

Till something at my back left me to poise

Myself. I turned around with just one glance

   Up at the moonlit hill and saw a man

   With an axe in his hand! And so I ran

And screamed, a-cursing out my grave mischance

   To cross another killer’s wayward path

   And dreading yet another painful bloodbath.

31. The Stalker-Man

And so I ran, till all my breath was gone,

   And all my strength to keep on running fled,

   And there was something aching in my head;

I then turned back and spied the field whereon

Th’ ungodly axe-man’s stalking apparition

   Pursued my running steps, and there he paced

   With Axe in hand: I backed away in haste

And flew the other way, till my condition

Began to burn with all the burning in

   My legs, because the threat of that foul ghost

Kept tailing me, a-stalking me within

   The drumbeats of my heart, until I lost

      My way, my mind collapsed in thoughts of murder

      A-slicing up my astral corpse asunder.

32. The Carnival

And so I ran and reached a wayward route

   That led into a town of gloomy folks

   Amidst a carnival of masks and cloaks,

Wherein I slowed my steps and looked about;

They all wore masks and cloaks, yet all throughout

   The bustling thoroughfares, they skipped and pranced

   And played their games and yelled and laughed and danced

As little children often do, no doubt.

Yet when I stepped into their bustling midst,

   I found myself th’ observed of the observers,

      A child within the company of strangers;

Then out of nowhere manifested mist,

      And then arose the hint of subtle dangers

   Within the child-like drivel of their murmurs.

33. Santa Claws

And then they said, “He knows you’re not asleep;

   He knows your stomach lurches into knots;

   He knows when you’re awake with sinful thoughts;

He knows when you’re alone, you’d often weep

Yourself to slumber with the ghosts that lurk and creep

   Within your bedroom just beyond the darkness;

   He knows why you are crying in the stillness

Beneath your bedsheets as you’re counting sheep . . .”

Yet as their words continued through the pause

   Of utter stillness in my mind, I closed

My eyes and opened them: and there he was,

   The fat man dressed in red with sack exposed

   And showing all the bodies he’s disposed

Of naughty children sliced up with his claws!

34. The Missing Children *******

I closed my eyes and screamed, till I grew hoarse

   And wheezed and choked and coughed up wads of phlegm,

Then looked around me and— . . . My God, what force

   Of devilry had started all this mayhem?

The corpses of the children, all of them,

   Lay strewn throughout this clearing in the trees,

And when I looked, I saw each twig and stem

   And branch had been disturbed! But when the breeze

Picked up, I felt a stab of sharp unease

   As something overtook my sense of dread

And flooded me with fear. By slow degrees

   Of disbelief, I saw these children dead

      Arise upon their feet! And yet thereafter,

      I joined my long lost peers in sullen laughter!

35. The Night Parade

I laughed a ghoulish laugh with them, until

   I had my fill of laughter. Then I greeted

   These undead boys and girls whose lives have treated

Them with the foul mistrust of those who kill

Their sense of self and strength. Adults instill

   The fear of God in everything, repeated

   A million times, until we lie defeated

Upon a stage adults have built to grill

Our minds and hearts with all the fears they have,

   Dragging us down with lies of love and care;

But in this group of children lost, we save

   Ourselves with friendship through the cross we bear:

      Indeed, we might be lost, we may have strayed,

      But with each other, we’re the Night Parade.

36. The Lost Children ********

> Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!

>

> —Bram Stoker,

> Dracula, Chapter II: Johnathan Harker’s Journal—continued

I. The Woods at Night

We trekked on through the woods beneath the moonlit

   Darkness of night, pretending we were soldiers

Marching along in pairs; we stopped to sit

   And rest ourselves on fallen logs and boulders,

While two of us kept watch just yards ahead;

   And while I rested thus, I rubbed my shoulders

And abdomen and chest and neck and head,

   Whereon I had sustained the lethal blows

Of pick-axes and knives: the pain and bloodshed

   Still set my nerves a-tingling ‘neath my clothes,

      Still caused my heart to thump and hands to shake

   Upon the very thought! But then arose

      The howl of wolves that made my heart to quake:

      And all at once, my nerves began to break!

II. The Mad Dash

Out of the darkness rose a thousand howls

   Echoing through the woods and sending us

Running amidst the fray of hooting owls

   And panic-stricken yells! So tenuous

Was our escape through all these wooded shades

   And shadows in our path, we ‘gan to cuss

And swear our stumbling way into the glades

   Without our knowing, till we stopped, dead tired

Enough to drop into the realm of Hades.

   Yet just before we, one by one, expired

      Upon our feet, we looked and saw a bridge

   Of astral sighs appear, its shape transpired

      Across a yawning gulf along the drawbridge

      Spanning a ghastly length from ridge to ridge.

III. The Bridge of Sighs

The hoots and howls had stopped, and all was still

   And silent in the air, as if the world

Around us stood at full attention, till

   We moved our steps across the Underworld;

And on the sighing breeze, we heard the voices

   Of our own yelling parents that have hurled

A thousand accusations that our choices

   Were never ours to make: we’re just too young

To understand that all our dreams of choice is

   A false impression, just the lying tongue

      Of countless promises to keep our eyes

   From getting wet when life is full of dung!

      So here we tread through broken dreams and lies,

      Contracted to the sounds of our own sighs.

IV. The Confrontation

Then up ahead, we found these evil tyrants

   Approaching us with claws and teeth, full-bared

Against our passage through, because our parents

   Just want to keep us on probation, scared

Of what they’d do; they’ve laid out punishments

   To keep us in control, and if we’ve dared

To make a stand and raise our voice, th’ events

   That would transpire would make us lose our nerve

And drown us in the lake of discontents.

   Yet through it all, we’ve kept up our reserve

      Of courage for the prospect of our plight,

   Ready to take the scoldings we deserve,

      Ready to stand our ground with all our might,

      And ready to endure the dragon fight!

V. The Revelation

Yet in a war of words, we’re far outmatched

   In skill to keep our heads above the water,

Because they’re wiser. We’re just newly hatched

   And soft against the flood of verbal slaughter

Attacking us in waves of reprimands,

   For what we say about ourselves won’t matter;

We’re kids, and we must follow their demands,

   No matter how demeaning they may be,

For we’re just kids, and we’re on shifting sands;

   They think that we can’t understand or see

      The points they make, yet we cannot avoid

   The truth we see inside their eyes, for we

      Perceive that they were children once, destroyed

      And sunk into the silence of the Void.

37. The Void *********

There’s something you should know about adults:

   They are but children lost within the void

      Of circumstances far from their control;

They’re doomed to live a life of harsh results

   That beat them down with things they can’t avoid;

         They’re doomed to struggle to maintain their worth

      When COVID-19’s cut them from the payroll

And added to the stress of daily insults,

   When deaths of loved ones make them paranoid

      Over their health of body, mind, and soul;

         They’re doomed to lose their reasons for their mirth

            When they have witnessed their most cherished dreams

         Broken upon the grounds of widespread dearth

            Amidst the wailing silence of their screams.

38. The Awakening

I screamed myself awake upon my bed,

   And there I lay a-breathing fast and heavy,

   My wayward thoughts now scattered in a bevy

Of honking geese now flying south ahead

Of morning’s glorious light. The blood I’ve shed

   So many times throughout this escapade

   Has left me cold and clammy in the shade

Of autumn’s sunrise. All the pangs of dread

I’ve faced has left me with the subtle trace

   Of apprehension on my nerves, my heart

Still beating out the drum-like thumps that race

   With all the fury of a sudden start,

      But even this subsided once I looked

      Around me with no thoughts of getting spooked.

39. The End

Then through the door into my bedroom came

   My parents calling out to me with fear

Inside their eyes, and to my bitter shame,

   I cried and cried, because they’re over here;

I heard their voices (soft and comforting)

   Caress my ears with words so full of cares,

Soothing my mind of every ghastly thing

   That filled and thrilled me with the stuff of nightmares,

Banishing all the dread of last night’s dream

   Into the void of calm forgetfulness,

Soothing the ghost of one forgotten scream

   With all the love and warmth of sweet redress.

      So goes the cycle of my life this way,

      As fearful night gives way to hopeful day.

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FINISH