Laaht Ortsenis

How long have I sat here on my cold bedside,

trembling from this feeling;

discontented and unsure of my terrors?

The hours dwindle down,

into a nightly cycle of eternity;

my own tortures.

How long will my mind run the thought,

that I fear nothing at all?

The very wish is horribly wrong;

I, too, come to a nightmare's call,

forgetting the ageless pain I wrought.

How long can I stand to look,

at my scars hardening, carved in stone?

The sheets that wrap around me,

are already rusted metal now.

The figures outside the door,

have come from distant lands to see;

gazing into the deep from Lah's bow.

The oceans rage inside me,

and it is the only consistent thing I know.

Even my heart has blackened,

and faded with the snow.

Author's Note

(T.S.)

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Very good use of description. I wanted to read more. Your powerful description create places and visions. I liked the anger in the words leading to perfect ending. Thank you Anna for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote