Dark

Discordant Symphony




Discordant Note

Scratching, floating

Hanging in the air

 

 

Pressure ebbs and flows 

Headpiece filled with straw

 

 

A twisted melody lingers

Confusion and rage entwined 

Resentment's bitter sting

Wrestles with sorrow's whine

 

 

Innocence stolen, trust shattered

By hands meant to protect

 

 

The child within still bleeds

Silently searching, begging for respect 

 

 

Justice denied, our secrets buried

Master manipulator 

A monster cloaked in lies

 

 

Crimes still hidden 

Despite Death's hand

Too late for tortured cries

 

 

Feet of clay now returned to dust

From whence they darkly came

Leaving behind a tangled mess

Of trauma, grief and shame 

 

 

The urge to desecrate, destroy

Wage war upon their grave

Wrestling with guilt, pity and relief 

Yes, he is no more

But I am not yet saved

 

 

This victory feels hollow 

An unearned, empty gift

When wounds still pulse and throb

No closure, the burdens unshift 

 

 

 

I imagine looking for the tombstone,

Fists and soul clenched tight,

Anger, disgust, and rage.

 

 

Shadows cast doubt over my morals,

Compass dysfunctional, truth estranged.

Like Basque tongues tangled with Ainu clicks,

A labyrinth of questions ethics inflicts.

 

 

No tears of mourning shed

No idea the monster was laid to rest

Three years later, a happy accident

Release a demon locked deep in my chest

 

 

How to reconcile the little child

Who needed love and care

With the person now made to carry

This discordant note hanging in the air

 

 

In the depths of this discordance 

Frustration and confusion still rise

Dare I confront the shadows

Curse their peaceful demise?

 

 

Every anguished scream swallowed 

Each day, coerced, suffocated in silence

Transmuting years of buried aches

Why not release in rightful fierce violence?

 

 

Through serpentine paths of healing

Piece by shattered piece remade,

Scars shimmering with untold stories 

Of battles braved and traumas mourned

 

 

In owning all that was endured

By innocent hands and shattered trust

Languidly learning to cradle, soothe

My inner child waiting, weeping in the dust

 

 

Each breath is an act of bravery

Every step is defiant, resolute 

Reclaiming fractured narratives

No longer voiceless or mute

Through my poetry, I find release

May its rhythm grant me peace.

 

 

This journey from victim to victor

Is paved with shards of broken self

Reassembled by courageous hands

Into mosaics of pain and health 

 

 

A symphony of survival

Echoes in the spaces in between

I cannot rewrite my cruel history 

I yearn like others to live and dream

 

 

Beyond the reach of phantom hands

That sought to break and steal and mar

I rise in revolutionary softness

Tempered by battles, reminded by scars

 

 

The discordant note, a stubborn seed, 

Resists the soil, its tyranny decreed, 

Yet woven slow, within the larger frame, 

An ostinato may conquer its shame, 

Finds solace in the weave, a timeless plea, 

Echoing Eliot, Stravinsky rewrites history. 



Author's Notes/Comments: 

I found out this morning (yesterday now), some 13–14 odd hours ago – whilst mindlessly googling, that a person who manipulated and molested me as a child had passed away (almost three years ago).

 

The obituary stated that they died “Peacefully” whilst being cared for by [redacted]. The conflicting emotions are intense – that they can still torture from the grave – exhausting.

 

While dealing with this flood of emotion and wrestling with my conscience, I came across a poem fragment on my phone that I started to write a few years back. The result of what it has morphed into can be found below.

 

I know this poem is far from complete, but I needed to get it out therapeutically. So, if you wish to comment, you are welcome to critique - however, strictly with empathy and compassion. 

Silent Night, Shattered Sight (Neurodivergent Nightmare)

 

 

Amidst the onslaught of festive frenzy,
Neurodivergent minds reel a tempest here to sear.
Senses assaulted, relentlessly vexed,
Christmas chaos leaves us perplexed.


Masking's breaking, taking weight, a suffocating shroud,
Authenticity lost in the neurotypical crowd.
ADHD autism's ache, an adult's disgrace,
So, invisible struggles are present in this merry place.


Pain's persistent, pounding refrain, an endless score,
Fibromyalgia's claws, forever tore.
Spine curved like a question mark,
Vertigo's dance, a dizzying arc.


Poverty's clutch cuts deep, leave plans in disarray,
Opportunities vanish, like mist in the day.
Isolation, depression, chronic cursed alone,
In a world where bonds stretch, then are gone.


Trauma mars, leaves scars, rape's brutal seal,
cPTSD's tortures - terrors forever real.
Triggers flashbacks, a minefield within,
Clock tick-tocks, the night's wearing thin.


Passivity creeps in just like a mischievous elf,
A sinister spirit keeps us captive, steals our self.
Painfully forcing out a cry, on deaf ears they fall,
"You knew they wouldn't", it sneers, "more unanswered calls".


In despair's abyss, hope's flicker dies,
As the world rejoices, behind a joyful disguise.
Countless unseen battles and unheard cries,
Anguish, desperation, pain, do naked eyes lie?


To those who feign concern, a warning rings clear,
Your platitudes and neglect, a deafening sneer.
For in the depths of despair, a reckoning brews,
When the desperate depart, with nothing to lose.


In the sombre, silent night, when alienation reigns,
The psyche buckles, under the weight of its chains.
Remember, you who turned a blind eye,
The blood on your hands as the outcast dies.


So let the silence shatter, let the truth be known,
For the neglected and broken, forever alone.
May their memory haunt, may their absence resound,
A damning indictment, of the help never found.


Silently in the night, isolation's doom looms,
For those left to rot, in desolation's tombs.
A scourge on false kindness, on empathy's dearth,
As the forgotten depart, from this merciless Earth.


A warning to those who still pretend to care,
Of the anguish hidden, behind festive despair's lair.
Family friends forsaken in desolation's night,
Cast aside, ignored as time ticks on, year's plight.


In the silent night, a dirge ascends,
For those struggling, lost at the year's end.
Society's apathy, an unpalatable bitter pill,
Washed down with tears, we fade away against our will.


Let the silence break; let the truth be told,
Of the torment endured, the agony untold.
In summer's sweat, a reckoning should rise,
Power imbalances now, no escape our fate's demise.


May our ghosts haunt the whole season bright,
Reminding us of those for whom this time's a blight.
In the season's glare, coalescing shadows reign,
Numerous reasons, curses feeding this pain.


A moment of stillness, amidst the hurricane,
A flicker of self, in the endless pain.
Battered and bruised, yet still we stand,
In defiance of a world, that refuses to understand.


Whilst it is true, many times I have tried,
But for my animals, it is on me that they rely.
As night follows day and day follows night,
Dark forces frantically fighting, stealing my fight.


Hope's a medicine, both a curse and a sure cure,
Healing if repeatedly given - the source pure.
Decidedly dangerous, deadly, dangled as a prize,
Breaking faith's wraith, soon you and society they'll despise.


A pox on ableism, on empathy's lack,
As we vanish slowly, our lives off-track.
In the silent night, our requiem it plays,
The forgotten ones, left on birthdays and holidays.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Like all entries in this anthology - this is raw, unflinching (oddly still with residual masking) and has the potential to offend or upset - this is my truth. So take this as another CW. 

Wary, a hyena anger forged

Folder: 
Poems

 



I. The Hacked Poet

 

 

Digital daggers pierce my screen,

Trust bleeds out where words had been.

Keystrokes shatter, voice hijacked,

My essence stolen, soul ransacked.

Whispers poison, wires aflame,

Bridges burn—who's left to blame?

 

 

II. The Targeted Girl

 

 

Ping! Ping! Predator's dance,

Pixels bright with false romance.

Click. Tap. Swipe. Tactics unfold,

Innocence crushed, futures sold.

Sweet nothings curdle, turn to bile,

Hope withers 'neath his toxic guile.

 

 

III. The Silenced Competitor

 

 

Where verse should soar, he lurks in shade,

Spite his ink, our light to fade.

Belittling brilliance, stealing shine,

Acid pen corrodes divine.

Art gasps for air, choked by disgrace,

Janus-masked fraud usurps our space.

 

 

IV. The "Saved" Soul

 

 

Saviour's mask, a hollow star,

"Help" leaves scars, near and far.

Self-praise echoes, spirits wilt,

Crushed beneath towers of guilt.

Puppet strings, not wings, he brings,

Rescue's ruse—how freedom stings!

 

 

V. The Witness to Lies

 

 

Death, illness feigned with glee,

Attention's void for all to see.

Tales spun from a forked tongue,

Truth and fiction come undone.

Even facts taste of deceit,

Trust now ashes at our feet.

 

 

Chorus (All Voices)

 

 

Beware the poet, serpent's pen!

Venomous verses strike again.

In webs of lies, we're spun and caught,

Our voices puppeteered, distraught.

Can you hear our silent screams?

Do you see our shattered dreams?

 

 

His falsehoods bloom, then wither fast,

But trauma's shadow long will last.

For liars gain one bitter prize:

Doubt clouds truth, trust quickly dies.

Behind each mask, our essence fades,

A cautionary tale cascades.

 

 

Urgency pulses through our veins,

Act now—before more fall in chains.

Words are weapons, shields, and balm,

Speak out to break deception's calm.

Our stories echo, raw and real,

To warn, to heal, to help reveal.



Author's Notes/Comments: 

 IYKYK. If you don’t just enjoy - but be careful out there. 

 

Les menteurs ne gagnent qu'une chose, c'est de n'être pas crus, même lorsqu'ils disent la vérité.

 

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Deep Wounds

Folder: 
Depression

The only time Im a slave is when its for you,

Youre the only one that makes me feel this way,

The cold metal against my hot flesh,

I cant get enough of feeling torn apart,

I try to hide it,

Its my secret,

Its our secret,

The way you feel pushing against me,

The break of the skin under your touch,

Sliding along and watching it open like a zipper,

White flesh with a hint of pink,

You push again,

You unzip more flesh,

The first starts to produce round garnet gems,

Slowly filling the space you made,

A third,

A fourth,

upto ten unzipped pockets,

More and more garnets start to form,

Pretty little gems against the pale white flesh,

A rush of heat through my body,

A burning on my leg,

Not hot like fire,

Just heat without pain,

All of a sudden the garnets run away,

Leaving marks like tears running down my leg,

Somehow theyre hotter than the heat in the area,

Glistening and shiny,

Streaks of garnet running in different directions,

Ah there it is,

There is that feeling you always priomise me,

A shiver runs from head to toe like a ripple,

A wave of calm sets in,

The euphoria released,

I feel content,

I feel satisfied,

I feel numb,

I hold you close to me,

You lay there still and motionless,

Still perfectly clean,

Still razor sharp,

Still gleaming in the weak light,

I feel satisfied,

I feel high,

I feel numb.

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The Siren

Folder: 
Tales and Fables
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Good Old Mother Death

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This was on my phone since forever, wanted to post it so I could clear up the space

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Armageddon-Bullet

Folder: 
Short Stories.
Author's Notes/Comments: 

A dream I had - Cthulhu Mythos short story.

Armaggedon Flight

Folder: 
Poetry
Author's Notes/Comments: 

A dream I had.

Aran

Folder: 
Poetry
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Mythos poem.

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