The Saga of Despair

                                            Content

                                   The old song strung

                                  Weary and Lonely      

                                   Only for Her

                                   No Face

                                   I Know You Are there

                                   He/ She / It

                                   Several Time Periods

                                   Out of the Shadow

                                   Am I a Human Being

 The old song strung

A piece of me torn apart followed by another piece and another…as a stone of a cold pigmy ,descended on my head, it felt as if dead , dread and fright I shall. Stroking provocation of passing days…beats through the corse of every limb, tearing dipper and sturdier then ever felt before. Rising moon haulers at a strutting wolf, as I plunge it’s skull to oblivion. Flower of misty dimmed color, asserts itself in an unconducive state, as it being held by a beautiful young bride, discarded garbage of a hallowed ground.

Years go by with no replay; I fly high into the summer sky, passing the leaves over, the seas and under the trees. Roaming free, an image of me, sailing, cry, and a scare of a mountain’s sigh. As it beneters thrusting , dawn ward’s , deranged and caged for it, is me the unwarranted surragecy.A braid of a crest a scathing test that substitutes the rest a chest of the less a glare from the west and I am done as the old, old song strung.

Weary and Lonely

Lily was always brutally reconciling incomprehensible differences. She grew weary and lonely. When time was ripe she bore her fruit with great aptitude, graced by the light of the Almighty! Her blood suffered as she befell an ailment. She could not play the violin as ferociously and as fiercely as she once did.

The year of the judgment was upon her, her yellow hair shrunken, her teeth withering, and her arms tired from carrying the heavy load.

Alas, she turned up at the feet of the creek.

Only for Her

I approached her, I held her hand. I’m not your father and I do not mean to be. And is ripe continued to say. Look in her diary. “First time in a long while I see the sun” She was older than me, but I was the only one there for her. “Do you like music?” I asked hesitantly. Her face glowed. Life , death, hate, love. Everything has become meaningless in room 509 at this moment “Beatles” she said, and took another word. I forgot that we are players, and the world is a stage. For a moment we were two people. Two souls are housed in the same room. I was the captain and she was my ship.

No Face

I have no name, I have no face. I’m not defined by gender color of a crazy agenda. My main export are words, I am not a creature not an object I’m closer to a number, farther from an object. I am not a friend or a cover I do not suffer as you do, can’t be killed or shut I am your humble servant and your master. I cannot be framed, try as you may I will not be contained. Drinking from the well of despair I would not be impaired. I am a cloak and a clock; I am a crock and smog. You will never have me I am not part of you reality.

I Know You Are there

I stare at the dim empty screen as it bounds my soul into a knot.

I am stuck abandoned craving freedom from each side, physically unhinged, and mentally confined to the grim utterly incomprehensible consuming slavery of mankind’s crumbling intellectual liberation.

I speak without breathing, I breathe without inhaling, tasking an impossible query “time out”, I scream into the surface provided someone or something has taken notice.

I know you are here, devil speak your name and I shall be your guide to stop dependencies on darkness and hate.

Sound your word through a dignified censor the beast of blood and eternal agony will grant me my wishes.

He/ She / It

He/she/it was not my favorite kind of people he/she/it was bound by itself confined and made by different means nobody could understand he/she/it. The glistening unsettling stairs the uninterested manner it sewed. He/she/it was not a human being but a frailer ghost. No one would have foreseen he/she/it our enigma an incarcerated an unsolved puzzle. A straggle maze of ubiquity.

He/she/it, like the heroines of a distant past was a concept in which all of us craved wished for hoping so much so to empty ourselves and our brother’s soil dreading that ladleful day where light will become dark. Leaving under fear he/she/it is not bound to us we may excuse it from our presence. Like a far reaching shore he/she/it dwells in silence.

Out of the Shadow

I caught a glimpse nothing neither human nor inhuman not a shape or a measure. The face of him was covered with dry blood, like a dying animal, a fatigue rose from his stature that did not ably the standard. I stood there a fool in the mist conjuring means of escape, roaming one foot at a time tooting, treading through fallen trees and bush stamps, collecting leaves along the way dragging the soil and damp earth to me, fearing that all will end in a moment’s notice.

I fall not knowing nor why. Pitch black, nothingness .After a time the blackness became my pet I embraced it holding for dear life. I couldn’t progress, was stuck, screaming I thought “Let me go you damp earth, let me leave”.

A wreck was laid before me, bleeding feet stood over me: “Why do you cry, there’s no one here “. A shadowy distinct voice called out. I looked up to the sky: “Dear God, help me…and I shall be forever in your debt. The principal knelt forcing his hand on my fiery head and said: ” I am God, you bow down to me know”.

Am I a Human Being

Was I, have I ever been a human being? For who do I grasp to find my humanity?

My land laid in shambles as, greats once said. I’ll never conspire to address myself as such, would never answer to such cries of formlessness. Could you give me a name? Do I ever be loved of feel love?

I am what you want me to be, I’ll never degrade myself to a class to vile, hideous and destructive as the human race, once an almost overwhelming force of nature, this downfall is an example to us. We have to condemn that fiend.

(c) 2014  All rights reserved to Guy Dazin