December 10, 2009
By Trill_Wellbush SILVER, Kingston, Washington
Trill_Wellbush SILVER, Kingston, Washington
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Darkness falls but no hands catch her, while angels weep without a cause, flame will die untouched.

Veins pulsing with no blood, and Dementia comes un-beckoned. Shadows dancing to no music,

Dementia beckons you.

She calls through ice that long ago has melted. Feeling pain with her nerveless bones, screaming words not to be spoken holding smoke of long passed flames.

Dementia dies unfinished.

Waking under flames of gold, waking over clouds of ice living life without color so you can still see the dark.

Dementia beckons you.

Darkness falls but no hands catch her, while angels weep without a cause. Flame will die untouched.

Opening wounds and tearing of scabs, better to bleed than to scar.

Embrace Dementia, and let her finally die.

The author's comments:
If you liked this please read and rate my other work, if you didn't there are no hard feeling, after all not everyone likes dark poetry. Ever since I was a little kid I thought that it was sad that darkness fell, and I wished someone would catch her. The point of this poem was to give personalities to ethereal things, like darkness, and dementia, a disease of the mind.

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This article has 1 comment.

on Feb. 14 2010 at 11:26 am
SweetHeart_707 SILVER, Lakeville, Minnesota
7 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
"It's not called being conceited, it's called being optimistic"

I lovelovelove! your lines, the intricacies of them. "Darkness falls but no hands cathe her,/while angels weep without a cause." Beautiful metaphor and wording, fabulous work.


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