A really weird poem about screaming out into the darkness of the world beyond my keyboard. |
-In The Dead of Night- by Keaton Foster In the dead of night I don’t care Both refusal And abusal Are out there And I know I am quite sure Echoing clear Abundantly real When what is real Is nowhere That I wanna be In here I resist Only when forced Do I ever accept Further still I negate Truth means nothing Nor should it Or could it ever I am a liar An impossible monster Of incredible ability And cataclysmic duality I trust only myself But even such trust Has begun to fade Leaving me quite alone Leaving me terribly cold Screaming and pleading In the dead of the night No one is listening They hear nothing of my plight I am unimportant to them Slightly more than I am Unimportant to myself Such a difference Is more than I can stand Did I ever cry wolf Did I ever scream for help Did I ever let them know Certainly I did not Now every ounce of regret Sits upon my chest Suffocating me to death Soon I will die Soon I will go Exactly to where Not a damn clue After I’m gone Those unknown Will move on Simply unaware Without a single care All that will remain All that they will know Is my somber words In the dead of the night Spelled out right Taking perfect shape And undeniable form Each line a god unto itself Looking for faith And for someone Other than me To believe in them I don’t care Both refusal And abusal Are out there And I know I am quite sure Echoing clear Abundantly real I will continue to Intentionally spill Out my heart and mind Leaving nothing behind Onto the page it will flow Out into forever it will go All that was said Every bit I will lament Every sin I confessed Will continue on While I will certainly not In the dead of night I will find what is right By expressing all that Is and has become To me, quite wrong… In The Dead of Night Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |