A Smoking Cage

 

Silent, smoky, vaporous form

snaking, seeping into the dorm;

toxic cloud, sullen and grey,

shutting out sweet light of day,

covering my dear complex

with a supremely vile hex.

Chilling vapor with it brings

a myriad of awful things;

a swift wind carrying distrust

that through these darkened halls will gust.

 

A dusty haze of cruel intent

that exposes every malcontent.

Stifling fog of words unsaid

that fills good souls with frightful dread.

Yellow-grey smoke blocks out all light,

forcing day into shape like night.

Sickly vapor makes distortions,

faces now have vile contortions,

frowns replacing former smiles,

loving gazes tinged with guile.

 

The smoke has filled each lowly crevice

and I feel the tangible avarice,

and the haze!  Everyone is concealed,

thoughts of all left unrevealed,

personalities becoming hidden

and angers, ills coming unbidden.

All your faces now are shrouded;

with dusky veils of smoke they’re clouded

and I’m forgetting facial features

lost to wispy, vaporous creatures

who, constantly, parts of you steal

and take them for a horrid meal.

 

These little monsters born of hate

now toy with all our star-crossed fates.

I can see them coming close,

reaching up to steal your nose.

Your eyes were thieved the other day,

soft lips just slowly fade away;

then you’re robbed of listening ears

though that should be low on list of fears.

 

This killing air all sound has baffled;

no laughing, crying, or eerie cackles

can be heard through fog that chokes

and morphs people into lesser folks.

Sickly yellow light comes streaming

through fog like celestial blessings beaming

through puffy clouds on windy days,

but God’s not found beneath this haze.

Sometimes in the smoke a face

will pop up, screaming, out of place,

crying in terror with eyes wide open,

bearing twisted features of one who’s broken.

 

Though my friends I’d love to save,

their fears and jeers I’d like to stave,

I am unable, and I cannot

destroy a darkness willingly wrought.

This damning prison of mirrors and smoke

was ours to build; this fire was stoked.

So we’ll sit as sinners inside this Hell,

enduring punishments deserved well.

Reviews

[MeDuhWhoElse]

I love this.

[Silvia - Scribo, Ergo S..]

Ouch! This hurts ... this is indeed a toxic vapour wafting through the stanzas. Choking and atmospheric. Down to its damning conclusion.

I know this is neatly structured and rhymed well ... but for me the rhyming rhythm doesn�t always work. I stumbled across the lines a couple of times ... But, hey, that�s only me. I�m not a great rhymer myself and often don�t appreciate it the way I should. xxx