http://www.stolaf.edu/people/leming/death.html 

I am under attack without an army of protection. See me lying face down in the murky pool of defeat.




Confession

There is a mold growing on my heart
eating away at what was once a love;
now I am consumed by the realities of
my life.

suffering

longing

pain

A hidden place dwells inside, keeping me
in an intolerable vile state of confusion.

No answers come--

Only silence from above.

I am battered by the wings of bats
biting into the soul of my spirit.

I scream out into the darkness and I am muted
by the ever growing fungus of fermented fear.

Far away from all sunshine, I am covered in a shroud.

Death becomes me.

I am death walking in tight, spiraling circles of chaos

I do not see.

Mummified.

I am forgotten, forged in pain, molded in rot.

Living in death as I drown in despair.

Maker of all things, where art thou?

The storm rages!

The seas swell!

All Hell has risen up and murdered all that I am.

Lost in an abysmal stain of black.





Poetry by Kathy Lockhart
Read 981 times
Written on 2010-01-05 at 07:27

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J. E.
An extremely dark piece. And I feel it is very real, compared to many others of its kind. This is so full of raging emotion and pitch black despair. Every word hits you like bullets. This is pure darkness. Which is, we must remember, a natural part of the human experience.

Better times will come. Balance will prevail.

All the best, Kathy.
2010-01-17


Damon
Excellently written milady--just excellent! I love it as I always do yours Kathy. Come visit when you have a chance on the site and in person as well!

Damon
2010-01-08


M Heathcote
Kathy, I use come here regularly because you and the Lastromatichero filled these hallowed hallways with so much love.
It was before and ever shall be you're domain. Kathy, his heart is still here, his words are still here. Like maturing rose buds his words are yours for the picking. The two of you made sweet eternal music in this enchanted garden together.
We have all enjoyed visiting. So please dear pluck those thorns from your heart and take a deep, deep breath and return to your garden he is the robin as you are the snowdrop appearing from the snow and I'm sure so shall your wondrous heart grow warm and strike from the ice to stand gaily proud like a golden daffodil. Mark xxx
2010-01-05


Arti
Perhaps what you need is a vacation in some sunny place. The sun will also kill the mold. Roses come with thorns, and I think this pain is the price of faith and love. But, good news is, there is only one place to go from rock bottom: right back up.

Hugs,
me.
2010-01-05



I am still in search of White Mud:P Now if there was white mud..Angels must know of such a soil,they always know how to take Mudcakes,turning them into Angelfoodcakes :) You always told me God never gives u anything you can't handle.We all go through thick and thinswheats that bring us good health:) This write was from your deepest corner of your soul.To touch base,to be able to reach in and let it out.or let things go..It is hard to do,but once you release innerpain or just to be able to reconize what ever pain your in..that is an Amazing Grace to be able too! You give strength in all you do,in what you write,and what you do..and that is,,you are a dear friend,who has made such an impact in my life,and many who come to this site to read Angels of Poetbay and Mommakac you place many impressions to everyone who have a great joy to come to know you..miss you

cyndi
2010-01-05