Passage

Psyche swoops
Low to the ground
Cloaked in anonymity
In the pitch black of night

Quiet, barely breathing
Hanging
In the balance

Nothing to give
Nothing to take

Passing through dark alleys
And stench-ridden stairwells
Littered with days-old detritus
And the glow of eyes

Half alive

Half tethered to
Another world

Where laughter, mad and demonic
Is the only kind you hear

Searching for hope
Escape from chains
And finding nothing
But past-due depravity

The most insidious kind

And rock bottom sadness
Lurking below
Borne of the notion
Pervasive potential

That every step means
Nothing more
Than passage into the

Abyss

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4 Responses to “Passage”

  1. That’s dark. I could picture it like a movie scene. Very cool.

  2. Mmmm. Past-depravity is one of the best phrases ever. All is not lost even in dark times. Things matter. What you do matters. What you say matters.

  3. Vic, yes, dark. Movie scene? Wow, cool…if only!

  4. M’lady, I knew I could count on you.

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