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The Attack
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Other With sweat glistening upon his brow
the old man listened keenly
nothing but the sound of wind tonight
this worried him more
his first reation was to look about
to pull his coat tighter around his chest
but folding up his lapel
would not shield him from the night
His hands began to sweat and shake
eyes darting from side to side
hoping to catch a glimpse
of the origin of his fright
left
right
left right
left right left right
leftrightleftrightleftrightleft
he began to run sweat seeping into his eye
he didnt know from what
one spin backward, nothing there
a check over a sholder, silence
only the sound of his feet on the hollow street
the hollowness of his own blood
pounding in his ears
the pain of fingernails digging into clenched fist
his heart beating faster, not because of wearyness
his breathing hard and heavy
thoughts of death, destruction and evil
shadows moving around every corner
no light but the moon to show the way
prayers are no consolation in this place
a scream of terror on the edge of his lips
as he runs toward his door, his safe homestead
the ground rises quickly as knees become weak
fighting agians thier own weight to keep on
he cant run anymore, the air is too thick
hes drowning on solid ground his limbs useless
Mouth sewn shut with unseen thread
he cannot cry out, the terror seizes his throat
hands shaking, body convulsing with purest fear
the old man blinks the devil smiles
a leaf blows by and all is paeceful again
Wow! This is one of the better poems I've read lately. The imagery in it is so intense, when really, it's such a simply act: a frightened old man walking home. In our minds, we oftentimes make such simple acts into massive spectacles because our fears take over. Sometimes, rightly so. "Mouth sewn shut with unseen thread
he cannot cry out, the terror seizes his throat" amazing imagery! I never would have imagined you had this kind of ability as a poet, but your strongest skill is without a doubt your use of imagery to get a point across. You set us (the readers) up with a basic scene, one played out countless times in history, and you put your own interpretational spin on how you would have felt, and with the images you inseminate, our minds run with it. I'm very impressed my friend.
Keep up the good work
-Dylan