A title with a double meaning, and a poem that makes me scared that it was my own doing.


Midnight's Toll

Imaginary voices piercing shrill out from the night
Painting pictures in your soul of tainted dark and screaming light
Imaginary colors moving in and out of sight
Forming images that move your heart from fantasy to fright
Imaginary music to which you cannot not move
Daring the mind it hath entwined to its existence prove
Imaginary children carving deep in you a groove
Of which their souls so far away do endlessly approve
Imaginary words whispered hoarsely in your ear
Persuading life to throw itself on Satan's molten spear
Imaginary passion swirls unsteady, slowly, near
Igniting in your blood a mission no man could revere
Imaginary matter flitting swiftly through the air
Dragging solitude across you, desperation, then despair
Imaginary love, deep and bloodied and austere
Soothes you with a charcoal hand as memories disappear
Imaginary liquid, seeping through you, pale and thin
Becoming dark and thick and dripping out your back again
Imaginary forces, taking everything within
As midnight strikes a vial fills with all you've ever been





Poetry by Morgan Cellohead
Read 524 times
Written on 2009-02-18 at 05:51

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Sun.Moon.Stars.Rain
this is...absolutely amazing. stunning. brilliant. chilling. wunderbar.

(i have no adjectives for it that are quite good enough to describe how powerful this is...)

so...well done.
2009-02-18