Evil Lurks

There's no hiding in the dark.

Sleep has an enemy with no consolation

solace sought is never an option

footsteps revile the quietude of night

putrid scent of evil fills the sense with disgust

grotesque hands that held me as a child

arms wrapped now tightly in the vise grip of midnight

calloused touch erupts in flashes of nightmares

sounds and sights of a door ajar with vile intent

straining not to excite the menacing monster

screams within the temple evaporate in mist

prayers go unanswered and shelved

shadows steal the breath of innocence

waiting for a saving grace that never calls

all are silenced by the torment of secrets

sinister lurks in unuttered sounds of avoidance

©

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Frieda, you are a great poet and I would be the first to say write from emotion. But sometime one has to reject the past or at least put it to rest and make that decision that you are no longer going to let this experience hold you as its victim forever. thjere are atrocities commited every minute. life is a short journey and despite pain and regret you can choose which direction to take.

[Frieda P]

Ok, that was like a smack upside my head, maybe I needed that. That's usually where most of my emotion comes from, it never lies dormant.

[LA Lorena]

nicely put John. I'm standing beside you on this one.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

See we both love you Frieda and want you as a whole person writing about everything that is beautiful in life or even cursing boyfriends or neighbours or employees even!

[Frieda P]

Oh the pressure....I think you may have killed my muse...........

[John Alexander McFadyen]

ok having sex with boyfriends, neighbours or employees even!

[LA Lorena]

LOL

[James William Dyer]

The past can leave deep scars that move even as we do, like a coiledscab and escaping or denying or overcoming it as it constricts us later in life is never as easy as it sounds.

[DIVYA]

The ultimate betrayal by those very who were entrusted to care and protect...
We try...to slay our ugly demons..
But they keep peeking from inside...
Accepting that they are here to stay and living and thriving alongside them and in spite of them is our ultimate victory!

Btw...As a poem...this is one of your masterpieces!

[Kaylor Mason]

I can't think of any response to this except a respectful silence . . . I think any 'review' of mine might inadvertently cheapen your words here, and I'm not gonna do that. Not ever. I just can't. For me to try to 'relate' or say a few empty words of condolences or a snide comment would be condescending, insulting, chauvinistic, misogynistic, and way beyond disrespectful. I . . . well, yeah. that's it. I'll shut up now

[Frieda P]

Love the review as a matter of fact, thank you so much Kailer.

[David Scott]

The last line is a poem in and of it's own.
I only wish to send kindness and healing as I read this...

[Frieda P]

Grazie David, muchly appreciated.

[James William Dyer]

I can relate entirely, and the emotion here is conveyed well. It is always the little things I noticed during times of trauma that clung to the inside of my head.....the smell of shoe polish, the little dust bunnies on the floor that would scatter with a breath while hiding. These images can touch the people who were never traumatized as little ones. I think those little images and thoughts the speaker of this poem had during those traumatic incidents would help this relate to readers who have never experienced abuse.

[Frieda P]

Oh, yes those minor details that smack you up the back side of your head when you least expect it, sorry you can relate James.

[Sola]

Excellent vocabulary and wonderful prose. There was truly a phantasmal mood to this piece, I enjoyed how you bothered to give evil it's own personification. Well done.

[Frieda P]

It has it's own personification Sola, sheer terror.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Very dark and brooding but this is a reality of life cause there may be a God but the devil likes to play.

[Frieda P]

Freakin unicorns again...

[quinfinn]

i haven't even looked at comments yet, but i get a vile taste in my mouth when i think i'm reading about child abuse, and this surely smacks of it. hope i am wrong, but it feels too real by this write. excellent rendering of a foul and pernicious slate of events.

[Frieda P]

Thanks quin, we need you back here...miss you.

[Ruth]

Amazing depth to this...
Stolen innocence is something to remain like a splinter in the soul...
Beautifully spun xox

[Frieda P]

Thanks Poppy, yes that kind of splinter tha embeds itself and you can't even surgically remove it.

[DrD]

Whether therapeutic or not, this work is eloquent and refined into that class of excellence we have come to expect from you. Highly visual, it uses its words to their greatest advantage. Congratulations for this one.

[Frieda P]

Thanks Doc, where you been, miss you.

[DrD]

Struggling ith a deadline. I check in occasionally but am burning midnight oil to get this manuscript out on time.