The still #Poetry

The still #Poetry


The wind begins to slither, finding openings to my room,
Something moves along the window, touches of impending doom,
Growing larger, ever closer, above my lying form to loom,
I wake up in the night,
The darkness is alive now, my bright eyes stare into the veil,
Catching motion, is it blowing? Or somehow rising up through Hell?
The chiming ever louder, and the cause I ache to tell,
So little in my sight,
The still of the night is deadened, waiting, waiting, dare I lay?
Suddenly, the birds are chirping, can they drive this dark away?
My heart to slow, my soul at ease, surer of the coming day,
So soon there will be light,
But will I see it? Moving forward, my hand to grasp upon the knife,
Peering, searching through the darkness, can I **** what don’t hold life?
Chirping, chiming, growing louder, the wind it rises, seductive, rife,
As I walk into the night.

– VishalDutia

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