Cold, dark, roaring thunder fills the night
slashing at the undergrowth and as
torrents of abusive power rain down
my thoughts explode into nothing.
Bitter winter winds blowing through
miniscule gaps in the battered frames
of windows that no longer repel
the demons that inhabit my mind.
The bleak solitude of the winter storm
relents for no man as merciless waves
unleash their force on the sleeping village
whilst I battle alone the torments of old.
Candles flicker as the gusts breeze through
the pine floored rooms of the silent house
while the groaning rafters creak and twist like
the knife that cuts through my empty heart.
Chilled air whistles through the empty corridors
the merciless tune that becomes the white noise
beating a tortured rhythm of relentless pain
whilst frosted panes provide a mirror to my soul.
Clouds, grey like the emptiness of my mind
gather in the hallways of my thoughts
coagulating in the consciousness of dreams
becoming nightmares in the wilderness of loneliness.
The dark, sullen, pervasive fog carpets the horizon
diffusing the light of another breaking dawn
whilst golden lights struggles to break through
to break the patterns drawn by winter's discontent.
The ghosts of the past must be exorcised from
the deep dark sanctuaries they occupy within me
shadowing my every waking hour they must move on
setting me on the road free from heartache and loss
Another oaken beam sparkles and spits, casting
fiery fingers into the morning breaking the cycle
of never-ending gloom that pervades my life and
snapping me into the now and the future that must be.
© Fergus Martin