PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Force myself to drift far away
Lift me back up to the better days
All I’m doing is swimming into the grey blur
Trying to capture ghosts of feelings that alive once were
 

Many thundering worries, their strength overwhelming
Fill another glass, so from them all I can keep running
Into this forgotten room filled with mist I hide
Soon enough though into this room my fears sneak their way inside
For too long I’ve been casting this spell so it all can feel close to a dream
Yet lately this dream is a costume failing to mask the nightmares in me
 

Swim in this lake of escapism until a skeletal hand pulls me below
Thinking temporally halted to avoid the ruthless low
Knowingly repeating this same tempting mistake
Offering finite relief for a later toll and so this relief I take
 

Into this lake I go where no plagues seem to be around
But then this cold hand grabs me and drags me down below
The momentary numb always just felt surreal but now I am starting to slowly drown
Thinking must be temporarily halted to avoid all I now know
This momentary numb used to feel like a close friend
But in truth a helping hand it would never lend for it wants me only to meet my end
Yet once more into this lake again I go
Must get away from the demons dancing in my head that so well I know
Into this manipulative lake once more I dive
Yet living like this makes me feel so much less alive

Through the water I look at the face of the one that grabs me
Skin decaying badly but something still so familiar that I see
It wants me to stay and rot with it down here
It wants me to give in again and not overcome my menacing fears

Throw myself in this lake of red
Threw myself in to avoid this hideous reality I dread
This calamitous routine is by design
This skeletal hand pulling me down under the water; it is mine
Submerged deep; red turns to ebony where the sun cannot shine
A skeletal hand pulling me down under the water; it is mine
Self-annihilation by perfected design
This dead hand pulling me far down: it is mine

By Adam Keith McElwain

Copyright Adam Keith McElwain Poetry