Pitch Black Room

Pitch Black Room

It’s always night-time in the depths

Behind the eyes, a vacant life

Alive, my mind, my dying breath

and lumbar pains just like a knife.

 

How did I get here I don’t know

The walls prolong this pitch black room

The smell of lilac steady grows,

Perpetual refills find my tomb.

 

I often wonder what ensued,

how I was diagnosed this way?

How did this fateful cloud imbue

upon my every carefree day?

 

I scribe in air the words I feel

Utopic pleas of God dipped ink.

I pray alone for this ordeal

To find its end before I blink

 

An empty tear befits my cheek

My head hung low within despair

My days succumbed to doorway creaks

and night times dodging these nightmares.

 

No light pervades these parapets,

Where time has failed to haste or slow.

The alphabet is silhouettes,

the words unsure of where to go.

 

I pray these trammels give away

or loosen just enough to nudge

Next time I will not hesitate

My actions only God will judge

 

But how I missed my comfy chair,

The clammy smell of ancient phrase

The way I used to breathe the air,

And bask in slanted saffron rays.

 

 How all was taken with my sight,

My mind the next to suffer this

Oh cordial gods, employ your might,

and pull me from this foul abyss.

 

The crevices within my brain

Have intermingled with the dark

And though I’m blind I feel the grains

of honey lemon flecks and sparks.

 

Though smitten by my visual purge,

I tend madness in mental reels

In slight contrasts my thoughts emerge,

With new approach I find appeal.

 

Some days I suffer maddening rage

Some days I find an inner peace

I make the best then turn the page

In hopes He’ll grant me my release.

 

I serve to him with ears and scent

My sight the devil took away

And sin cares not your innocence

His mead led to that sad melee.

 

A fist full of a flower vase

Maimed with glass and lilac blooms

A sad mistake affects my days…

How I became this pitch black room.

 

Paul Neglia
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Paul Neglia

Proud father of 3. Part time writer of poetry and short stories. I want to paint the world in but a few words.

14 thoughts on “Pitch Black Room

  • July 17, 2017 at 2:05 PM
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    I am taken in by this poem because it is very powerful. I can feel the depths of pain resonating from your eloquent words. I have been there, as well.

    • July 19, 2017 at 9:21 AM
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      Tamara thank you do much for your kindness, I am glad you took favor with this.

    • July 19, 2017 at 9:20 AM
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      Phyllis I am glad you enjoyed this. Much appreciation

    • July 19, 2017 at 9:20 AM
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      John thank you so much. I am honored by the comparison. Much appreciated.

  • July 17, 2017 at 3:46 PM
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    I agree with both Phyllis and John, a masterpiece indeed. I hung on every word and was totally breathless and drawn in by your exquisite talent. Poetry at its finest sir.

    • July 19, 2017 at 9:19 AM
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      Thank you so much Vincent. I’m glad you enjoyed this.

  • July 17, 2017 at 5:40 PM
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    I really can’t ad any more than what Phillis and John said… masterful…

    • July 19, 2017 at 9:18 AM
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      Thank you do much for stopping by and the kind words, Kurt. Much appreciated.

  • July 17, 2017 at 10:10 PM
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    What a powerful and poignantly confronting piece. To be blind, or at least become blind after having sight, would be so difficult and here you have penned beautifully the emotions and feelings of one stricken. Great word play and rhyming my friend. An exemplary work. Excellent Paul.

    • July 19, 2017 at 9:22 AM
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      Thank you so much my friend. I am glad you enjoyed this.

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