Drown

A stream of silver quietly breathes,

Soft touch caressing the shoreline,

Cradling my feet in the shallows,

Securing a starlit shrine.

The water – cold and calm –

Rippling with the slightest shift,

Suffocating me with fluid cushions,

Watch an ashen aviator slowly drift.

The river speaks and calls:

An invitation to go down,

To which I accept –

And happily drown…

The Belfry

Repeating visions in my mind:

Are they dreams?

Or are they deadly premonitions,

A future tearing my reality at the seams.

The blinded sight of the dark belfry:

Hidden by stars and surrounding blackness,

An ominous tower of midnight stone,

Waiting to strike from the darkness.

Bells ring a soundless noise,

Heard only by those who cannot,

Calling them forth,

Answers these wanderers sought.

And so forever they roam,

Hearing what cannot be seen,

The mischievous elusive Tempter

Commanding the night over land unclean.

The hooded torturer inside the belfry

Pulls hard on the chains of the bell

Denying seekers permission to see

Living in a personalized hell

But the man in the cloak,

The evil spirit and belfry master,

Is the aged reflection of my mirror

Turned a deadly jester.

Is this the end of my path?

Is the right-hand safer than the left?

Is this a simple nightmare

Or will my soul become victim to theft?

The Phoenix

The majestic phoenix inside

Is but a frail thing,

It can succumb to old age

And wither away to nothing.

As long as it resides within

It shines with fiery intensity,

Bestows a light of warmth

And bequeaths mercy.

But if fate cloaks the phoenix

In a shroud of shadows,

Is forgotten or left alone,

Its ashes become a sea of sorrows.

With a single word or simple stare

The phoenix can be annihilated -

With a single word or simple stare

The phoenix can be reignited.

It can go missing but never lost,

It can grow dark but never cold,

Hopes and dreams keep the ashes ready

For you to return and break the mold.

Apostle of Darkness

Before Lazarus was buried in a sepulcher,

Before Hades stole the daughter of Demeter,

Before a spear of mistletoe murdered Baldur,

Before Chronos first waved his scepter,

The Apostle sat alone with his dagger.

In the world of obscurity and blackness,

Atop his dusk throne, his highness

The Apostle commanded the shadows voiceless,

Cimmerians, the shadows lifeless,

In the darkened world flawless.

But the Apostle despised meaningless immortality,

He dreamed of a world where life is deadly,

A place cloaked by the shadow of mystery

And wrapped in a veil of beauty,

Thus the Apostle thrust his knife into reality.

He cut and carved with all his might,

Yearning to escape eternal night

After years of labor, the Apostle cut a gash of white

And the blood that flowed forth was light

For him, this brilliant vein was pyrite

Many Cimmerians escaped into the incision,

Forfeited immortality to be merely human,

But the Apostle could not escape his coffin,

Forever condemned to be the darkness warden

In the land across the world ocean.

All but a few left the Apostle alone,

Into his creation and the vast unknown.

Still he watches, viewing every fatal cyclone,

Observing every death and subsequent moan,

Constantly wishing he could abandon his throne.

- Monthly Post -

Welcome to The Abyss everyone. 

I understand that I am relatively new to the online poetry community but in my brief tenure as a blogging poet, i have met some interesting poets and writers that are also writing and posting as often, or even more often, than I do.  I personally love sharing my poems with everyone who takes the time to read them and i plan to continue this blog as long as time permits me to do so.

I understand that many of you know little about me other than my pseudonym "Abyssal Poet" and I wish to maintain the ambiguity as pure as it already is.  Some may know who I am and what kind of person I am personally but I wish those who do not know me outside of my poems to only know me by my writings.  If you wish to know more about me, read the poems i post on this site and you will find me inside of all of them.

Lastly I want to express the joy I feel everytime I see a like or a comment on any of the poems I post either on this Blog or on my Facebook page.  I expressed in my initial statement when I started this site that poems speak to everyone differently and that resonance may shine bright or dim.  I do not pretend that everything I pen is a masterpiece, if anything I have already posted fits anywhere near that category, thus, both negative and positive criticism is warmly appreciated.  Which brings me to my question, what is one/are some of your favorite poems I have released thus far?  I know this will largely be read by fans on Facebook so feel free to post whatever you wish on the link i will post there or on this Blog if you happen to have a Google Account to connect to.

I will try to post updates such as this monthly along with my poems.

-Abyssal

Jewels of Glass

Amidst the vast sea of sand

Bright crystals of hope doth stand,

Against the desert so grand,

Refusing to kiss the hand,

Hostile toward the command,

Of monochromatic land.

Jewels the great star remade,

Diverse in color and shade -

The sand attacked and betrayed

In their unholy crusade,

Buried to make colors fade.

Jewels hidden and buried,

Are converted and stymied,

Pressured to sand and proceed

To join the sad grains serried.

And thus few jewels now shine -

The pearls buried deep resign

Under pressure, live supine.

False sea of tranquility -

Sea of similarity.

Where jewels of glass perish…

The Phantom

Surviving day by day,

Completing every task

Unnoticed and unattended

As if hidden behind a mask

Wander in silence,

The tangible phantom,

Like a soldier

Following the drum.

The self only confirmed

By the shadow in the mirror,

The wretched reflection

Of the rejected creature.

One lucky day,

The mirror fails to reflect.

The body expired,

Eager for Death to collect.

The drum is silenced,

Lost in the mist,

Life continues in spite

As if the phantom did not exist.