A terrifying poem about being in a space between two ideas. |
-Somewhere Cold- by Keaton Foster Where Here This place A prison A home Eternal Cold Just bones No longer alive Not quite dead In between God above The Devil below Neither knows How could they I do not belong A stranger in life A ghost in death Somewhere cold That is all that I know All that I’ve been shown I hear the voices of the living I hear the screams of the dead Both are speaking the same things Gibberish to man of so many words I can’t understand No more than I can truly explain One dark night Back when I Was amongst the living Fearing nothing of this And suffering from all things shit Easily I put a gun to my head Without concern for anyone else I squeezed the trigger The sound still does linger Death was not so instant Instead it was more transcendence To a height above the ground But far below any realm of clouds I am unwanted Nothing has changed for me Nothing except for choice that is I have none in this place I am just waiting Just listening To the screams of the dead And the voices of the living Lingering must be my punishment Then again Maybe it is my salvation I am unsure if I’ll ever know… Somewhere Cold Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |