Dread Omen

The dropping feeling in your gut

People may say it is cliché

But have you ever experienced it

Then you too will say

That horrid silence of no breath

Mixed with the dreadful emptiness

Of the stomach filled with anticipation

Sprinkled with the endless heartbeat

Racing time in reverse

Slow motion seems endless

Right on cue as if you would rehearse

But who wants this practice?

Wishing it wasn’t so familiar

Wanting to flee from this dread omen

The draw to go run, hide, die, disappear

All to avoid that look, disappointment

Anger, rage, silence, d-day

Something and everything

It shall happen either way

Let the dread omen sing

Only time will truly tell

But past and premonition foretells

Fallen into trap and spell

Stomach knotted, bottomless wells

Don’t deny it now, I’m already sold

It’s sure to come soon

The future has been told

It happened already last sun and moon

Sulfurous Soul

Smash of the platter

Screeching to a falter

Slamming against ground
Shouts all around

Scorn and upset

Sears the mind’s debt
Squalls erupt and fire
Screaming a tantrum dire

Scared of what is and has been
Sworn to thyself no more chagrin

Stopping upon realization

Shy of extreme over dramatization

Slowing the fury and rashness

Staring at it you confess

Sure apprehension

Sharp recognition

Stained reputation

Self aggravation

Soiled blanketed reality

Stance wavering yet

Shaken will and might

Stripped of bite and fight

Swiftly placed face to arm

Swallowing gasps of alarm

Smoldering droplets fall

Sliding down as you recall

Sneak a look behind your back

Streaming hot tears you once would lack

Stability smashed and crashed

Steady upheaval and now abashed

Similar to heated tears you want to stanch

Small dew drops cry upon a branch

Sun rising and drying the trees

Smile a bit and do as you please

Still you halt and wonder again

Sweetness comes though it wanes

Pitied, So Sorry

The shadows call

The devil’s choir summons

The whispers in his head

The constant pitying looks from the corners of their eyes

Sorry after sorry, apologies splayed

As if they mend broken hearts

As if they calm troubled souls

As if they tame the raging emotions

People think they can slip past on two-faced facades

Thinking he won’t see past their false comforting hold

Believing he won’t notice their imagined situations

Assuming he won’t realize their counterfeit sympathy

Wanting to please everyone is not an easy feat

Repenting seems much simpler

But it reaches a point

Where it all boils over icy

Where it all freezes over scorching

Where the dry rain no longer quenches hunger

Where common sense is questioned

Where societal norms are revealed under new light

Where common sense no longer seems right

Where something, just a little thing, snaps

Where insides jumble into a tangled mess

Where no change shows apparent outwardly

Preying off of self deceit and continuation of all he knows

Tilting from slight smiles to tortured silence

Laughing away people’s doubts

Internally searching and seeking and coming short of an answer

Time dulls the blade’s edge

Time weakens the claw’s pull

Time stifles the banshee’s wails

Time muddies memories unforgotten

But broken blades still cut

Soft clawing leaves marks

Whispered wails shrill eerily

And all the dirt and mud piled thick

Would not erase the lines of graffiti’d concrete underneath

The sane world he lived litters with altered comprehension