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My Apocalypse Part 2
29 September, 2008
Author: Puppet

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They shove me through a door with sunset shadows on its face
In the eerie room the afternoon thumps its tribal drumming bass
The stoic sun is falling fast, I see it through the window
So desperately I start to plead to the mirror at my elbow

I tell it just how horrified I feel while in this place,
And I’d be so ever grateful if it’ll be my saving grace.
It stares at me with my own eyes and speaks with my own mouth:
“You’re stupid to be scared,” it says “’Cause this is just your house!

If it seems that horrid things are running bountiful and profuse,
Well all it’s saying is your imagination is uncontrolled and loose.
Every shriek you heard and demon seen were born from your deep fears
Your mind molds them and holds the reigns while tricking your eyes and ears.”

But just as it has me reassured, the mirror glass falls shattered:
I jump with fright ‘cause to my right is an axe-wielding mad-hatter!
I’m so scared; I want to flee, but I remember what the mirror said
If it’s from my head, it is not real so I’d regret my having fled.

He advances slow with demented grin and eerily unfocused eyes,
But I hold my ground and watch with dread as he raises his red axe high;
Down comes the swing but I don’t feel a thing and when the chop is done he’s gone!
In the hatter’s place alone I face a prairie-valley’s dawn…

------- Author's Notes -------

The second part of my attempt at a trippy epic. Part three is on the way...

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Bipedalguy (65.96.237.196) -- Wednesday, October 1 2008, 07:36 pm

Brilliant

This is even better than part 1. I like the skillful way you create images with words.
Keep it up !
Bipe
 
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