Shadows of time

Discussion in 'U.K.' started by J0hn, Apr 22, 2007.

  1. J0hn

    J0hn Phantom

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    A dark starless sky with a full moon shining
    I gaze out my bedroom window but then fall back down onto my bed, where I bury my face into the pillow and begin crying.
    I can hear people, strangers outside my door. I can smell the sterilised corridors of Healthcare. Yet on this wing, nobody cares.

    A door flap opens and a pair of eyes appear. I clasp my blanket toward my aching and cold body and crouch toward a far corner in fear.
    A harsh voice speaks, booming through the iron door, I am due for transporting to an apparently nice hospital ward.

    The door flap slams shut, the eyes dissappear and I am all alone in the darkness with the moon as my only Goddess. Tears begin streaming down my pale white face, I feel terrified of this Godforsaken place. I just want out, in my mind, I know I have no doubt.

    Across a gulf of space, a courtyard below and a wire netting high above, I can hear tormented screams and people going insane. Each door that I can hear opening is followed with yet more screams and more pleading. These machines cannot be reasoned with, in the distance, I can smell the aroma of bleeding.

    At five am, I am transfixed by the shard of sunlight across my wall. as the hour goes by it gets bigger until my shadows stand tall.
    The iron door opens once again and a voice announces it is lunch. Shrivelled up bacon, cold beans and a plastic cup with a boiled egg and boiling water. As the door slams shut, I stick two fingers up and say under my dying breath, thanks a bunch.

    The tree's in the courtyard below are nothing more than a few crumpled up leaves. Each tree in the courtyard is dying of other people's depression. No love, no sympathy can penetrate this place of detention.
    The blood of man on the walls, the millions of words of hatred having no affect at all. I have heard them all, devised a dictionary. How very crazy.

    With the midnight moon, shining splendour, as white as the cliffs of Dover. I know my life, my life is well and truly over. For chance and love, the temple the scroll. Scribbled on a corner of the room, a former resident wrote:
    I am the captain of my soul.

    Time is endless, my life taken away, too much time to dwell on my loss. Feelings as cold as ice and as harsh as the bayonet at the end of a rifle. My soul set ablaze, I am insignificant. Suddenly I hear a loud bang and somebody kicks me in the yarbles.The room goes dark, the moon rises and shines, I know that time is abundant. I am paying each second for my crimes.


    This poem was inspired by my six month ordeal in 2005.

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