Labyrinth

Labyrinth



Looking back, I possess no memory,
looking forward, no revelation.
At enmity with myself, I struggle
finding what once made me whole.
Lying upon the ground,
the scent of fetid earth
rushes through my nostrils,
attacking my senses
until they reel from the
unmeasured onslaught of decay.

You must go forward
my mind screams, start anew—
I no longer trust my mind,
nor emotions which swirl
in a miasma of unrelieved doubt,
yet, remaining, my roots
will take hold and wither
in this wretched, dead place.

Rising, the rot clings to my flesh
with certainty, a reminder
through texture and smell,
I once dwelt within a
barren wasteland of loss.

My hands touch no wall
though diligently search,
always out of reach, still,
a presence reverberates through
passages structure exists—
walled void of endless,
sightless, darkened path.

Silent voice haunts,
permeating my mind with madness,
wrapping my will in tentacles
of threatened destruction,
hunted, pursued by
an abomination against my back,
forcing my feet into a disorganized run.

Air assaults blackened realm,
squeezing my lungs to
non-breathing organs as
I gasp for breath from the
exhalation of the beast.
The anathema takes aim,
trickling terrors down my spine,
allowing openings for curses
worming through my core,
searching for a spot to
claim as its own.

Twisting. Turning. Trembling.
Falling. Finding new hallways to run,
hoping this diseased enemy
will not find footing as it
chases me to the ground.
Demented ramblings ricochet
off unseen liths,
venomous voices vacant of reason,
vapid in thought, enter ears
desiring deafness.

Hands brush solid form
transforming the spot,
a transparent view of outside world.
Life continues without me in this
colorful creation of the living.

Some moment brought me to
that hidden torment
without power of sight,
understanding, or sound logic.
No longer blind, I gaze at
what I do not possess,
unsure of this reality,
afraid of this image
as the darkened monster
closing behind me waiting to kill.

A song fills the void between
light and dark, a glint against
the wall drawing my attention.
I remove the shining sword
feeling its weight, sense the
power it wields when properly swung.
Touching the blade, spilling
my blood upon the steel,
I relish this moment as
it sings for me alone in
preparation for my final battle.

Staring across the outside world,
I understand that realm is as false
as the one I have just escaped.
I return to the dark
brandishing the sword that
will slay what keeps me bound.

Realization of what I am
fills my mind with promise.
I am both ... dark and light,
two parts in constant conflict,
separated by the inability
to understand I am complex.

Finally free, I race toward my foe,
the fiend that has chased since birth—
The Demon of Fear.

© Copyright 2007 P. A. Matthews/E. A. Irwin (UN: pmatthews at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
P. A. Matthews/E. A. Irwin has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.