vincent_fenton08

I write a little poetry here and there. Please feel free to leave any comments. All will be taken as constructive. If I have enough people like certain ones, I will do what I can to have them published. The following are some examples:

Nothingness

Crawling out of the dark,
I see, all around, nothing.
Nothing but digits.

Numbers flying by
And whizzing through the air,
Buzzing an endless drone.

Television sets and radios
Stinging my eardrums,
Constantly deafening me.

And now all is quiet,
Peace at last.
Blissful silence and beautiful nothingness.

If only the moment would last,
But alas, it is but only a moment.
One which I shall treasure.

Over and over again
The cycle plays on,
Repeating the same beat.

Then one day
After another,
The rhythm grinds to a halt.

Finally,
As I always had hoped,
Nothingness.

A Scratch

A scratch.
A singular etch.
And everything has been undone.
Everything that was made over years,
Through the good times and the bad,
In the thick and thin,
In warmth and cold,
All that went into this, this thing,
Gone.
If only it had all been kept away,
In the shadows of safety.

The Sound of Time

Tick. Tick. Tick.
Onwards, beating always the same rhythm,
Never ceasing, never tiring.
Tick. Tick. Tick.

As the hands keep clicking,
Never losing momentum,
A precious second is lost, never to return.
Always. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Just as the mason lays down brick after brick,
So too does the time roll on.
Reminding us of our limited time
With its tick. Tick. Tick.

And as the day draws to a close,
And night settles upon all,
Time never retires
Its job. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Catastrophic Fantasy

Away in a distant land,
Where there are great hills and lively forests,
And a shack, made by a lone lad,
Where there is naught but peace, grand.

The boy, fleet-footed and with quick tongue,
Hands of a Ranger and sharp senses,
Knows that this place is only a dream,
Just waiting to be flung.

As he realizes the illusion,
Seeing past the vast picture,
He becomes drawn back to reality.
All ending with that age-old conclusion.

Returning from fantasy,
He sees himself in the dark violence of the real,
Noticing his demise, he smiles.
Always knowing his thoughts would be his death,
To his relief, catastrophe.

The Deep

In this world, many treasures be there,
From the smallest gold trinket to the glory of the ocean blue.
To behold all this majesty is grand fare,
But I must stop now and to you be true.
For in this world, and in my life,
I hold many a thing to be dear.
But in all the things I care for, there is strife
To be the one that I love and fear.

Alas! for my love is drowning me.
Into the dark abyss I sink for you.
As I watch you from the scene flee,
My flesh freezes and turns that ocean hue.
To hold you would be my life’s climax,
But may also be my downfall.
Yet to be unmoved and relax
Shall also lead me to Mandos’ hall.

So now the question must be said,
“To the creatures of the deep am I to be fed?”

My Shadowy Abode

In the shadows I make my abode,
Away from the fierce Light,
Where my eyes may rest and fold
From that painful bright.
These dark things around me,
That from the pitch seem bleaker,
Are clearer now to see
Than in that lamp, thanks to the weaker.

And though this mystical space
May be cool, pitiful, damp,
But, as opposed to that luminous face,
I prefer my darkness and to it clamp.
For in this darkness I find comfort
That none of the Light could bestow
Upon me, even with all their love, no effort
Will bring me to the cave-mouth to know.

Though I am told of the immeasurable happiness,
I choose to be realistic, and never live in forgetfulness.

For You

Why be silent in your delving feelings?
Speak, ye, and be quick!
Time is wasting away and my dealings
Are soon to end like a candle flick.
I see that you hold me dear,
But as your own, I certainly think
’Tis not I, and for this I fear
Judgement will I, into darkness, sink.

For you, I wrestle with the Light.
Scorched my skin be, my eyes burnt,
But I still continue this fight
For you, till my last breath be spent.
Pushing forth, lunging with the darkness,
I struggle to afford you comfort
With these shadows, without forgetfulness,
Remembering every smile I gain with effort.

Because of my devotion for you, I stay.
If you desire, though, for you I will fade away.

My Fight

Tethered and chained to this Darkness,
I think of Light, of freedom.
But in Light, I see a weakness
That exists not in the phantom kingdom.
And though on the surface, Light seems
Clean of any misfortune, one only must
Look beneath the glare, and there gleams
Any and all evil, for which not I lust.

It is these evils which I fight.
Though I be chained to the stave,
I know I struggle with a true enemy, Light.
And at the end, I will master it and enslave,
Or be undone, a lifeless form in the shadows.
And if I succeed not at the mission,
I gladly accept the recess of the abyss and shadows.
For now, the battle waits for the collision.

Shadows are unforgetful, or so they tell me.
Does this explain why from the Light they flee?

Pawn for the Darkness

Like the pawn sacrificed for the prize,
I feel I am loosed to the mercy
Of my enemy, who with vast power and size
Is well deserving of the title “Excellency.”
And as he rushes across the board,
His blade glistening with His Light, radiant,
My voice betrays me, “Oh, Lord!”
In reply, perceiveth I the words “Be valiant!”

Though I tremble with fear,
I dare move not, my loyalty withstanding
The test of virtue, and my heart clear,
I feel no pain from the blade’s landing.
But oh! do I see vividly
The delicate nature of my form.
The Light shows lividly
Pure bliss of eternal dorm.

And as I shy from the glare,
I realize why the shadows are so fair.

The Monster’s Hunger

With every burst of Light into me,
More and more the monster grows
And schemes to the source flee
For that awful energy, and clothes
Itself in my frame.
This body is its only protection
From that lamp, and it blames
Me for its defection.

Perhaps I am the reason
For this creature, who desires
What he knows not, like a son
After his own father mires
In pains he understands too late.
And as this demon screams,
Voices tell me his fate.
Awful are the nights filled with dreams.

Terrible it is to hear
That my shell be the end of one dear.

Defiance of the Proud

Beg?! Beg for mercy?! I shall
Do no such thing! To beg shows
Cowardice, and I am no coward.
I shall face the Light the way
Any proud man will.
For Death is nigh, and the Light
Beckons me come forth, but I
Say “I meet you here. I shall
Not bend to your commands.” If
Light wishes me to it, then it,
Light, had better be ready for a fight.

As Death shrouds me with its
Claws, and the Light shines
Further on, I draw my blade.
I stay my fears and invite
The pair to come hence and
Exert their strength upon my
Soul. If they should slay me,
Then to them I depart. But
If I keep them at bay, I
Then am proclaimed champion
Of this body, this spirit.
I am mine.