The Threshold

Another poem that I wrote five years ago. I haven't written much in awhile...

The mirror was placed in a room where no light struck,
Yet it glowed with an otherworldly beauty.
I gazed upon it for the first time, and saw blackness.
I walked away to the mundane hallway,
In a mundane house, in a mundane world.
The sky was grey outside and the people gloomy.
I returned to the mirror that offered nothing to me.
Suddenly, the opacity diminished and there it was,
The world I had always longed for but had never existed.
Yet was it really there, or just a phantom image?
I touched the glass and ripples traversed the surface.
My hand sunk into the mirror and pain shot up my arm.
My body immersed in the substance and then I felt no more.

I awoke much later or quite shortly, for time had no meaning here.
The sky was amber and the air was thick and intoxicating.
I found I could not breath in it, and started to choke.
I should have died then, but this wretched world did not allow it.
I lay on the earth, dimly aware of my existence and that of others.
Creatures circled around me and picked at my supple flesh.
My bare skeleton left behind could see through its vacant sockets,
And found that it was still in pain, a pain that would last for eternity.
An image came to me too late, that of my own world.
The sky was clear blue and the people were laughing heartily.
I cursed their happiness and tried to move my hand,
But found that the fear that drove me here was true.
I did not exist.

Reviews

[Prophecy]

I can feel Vancouver in this poem. If that makes sense.

[ΨXO]

Intensifying visuals only excelled this piece alongside its grasp that tugged my whole. I cast in a vote to hear some new stuff from the wonderful author. Keep 'em coming Xeno.

[....]

dark and deeply profound. enjoyed your way of thinking....amazed

[Rowan Storm]

Scary. Why not incinerate the bones?