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deniall — control
Published: 2005-11-10 10:37:13 +0000 UTC; Views: 90; Favourites: 1; Downloads: 7
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Description I shall not sleep.
The tendrils are escaping from my mind.
It is late, I really should,
alas I cannot.

They climb from my dreams,
that are yet to come!
The characters introduce themselves
before merging with a place of colour and life,
they dance at the bed end,
mockingly laughing.

Tormenting me.
I close my eyes,
go for the ipod.
They dance behind my eyelids.

They wrap around me, warping me, until I am them.
I reach for the pen possesed,
until I am spent in spurious motion.
I pass out and my character sleeps.
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deniall - murder
Comments: 6

Llamaentity [2005-11-19 02:30:44 +0000 UTC]

Great ending, there. It really wrapped the poem up magnificently—and I really know, too, what it's like to feel such a strong urge to write.

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

MidnightShadow83 [2005-11-13 06:35:28 +0000 UTC]

I hear that!! That is a wonderful breakdown of inspiration influenced insomnia. Caving to the characters can be the only option sometimes. I love it.

👍: 0 ⏩: 1

deniall In reply to MidnightShadow83 [2005-11-13 22:48:05 +0000 UTC]

Thanks matey

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

Redgold [2005-11-11 13:51:58 +0000 UTC]

I like this one. A nice mixture of humour with the serious issue of inspiration. Reminds me, by its message, of a poem called The Thought Fox, by Ted Hughes if I remember correctly. Ace stuff.

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vertigo1473 [2005-11-10 16:53:12 +0000 UTC]

nothing to say but that I like the way you introduce a Poet's torment...that 2:30 am visitor that refuses to let us sleep until they are shown to the world...so annoying, yet so beautiful, and we cannot live without them...

👍: 0 ⏩: 1

deniall In reply to vertigo1473 [2005-11-10 23:14:37 +0000 UTC]

Thanks, tell me about it!

👍: 0 ⏩: 0