I am hooked by chains, that came from the ground
A stitched up man is, the only one around
He said I've gone to Hell, and there's no way out
He said it's because, I was not devout
I should always have known, to believe "just in case"
So I wouldn't fall, from eternal grace
It's too late for me, I'll burn now forever
Escaping from Hell, is quite the endeavor
I start to tingle, my back changes shape
The chains hold me down, so I can't escape
Leathery wings, rip out from my back
They dripped with fresh blood, and were colored black
I got to my feet, then I spread my wings
I will leave my shackles, in search of better things
I tried to go fly, ripping out my chains
Pain does not deter me, only hate remains
The chains snapped from the ground, I rose into the air
I didn't know how to leave, but I didn't care
AS long as I left, from the stitched up man
I could take some time, to devise a plan
To escape from Hell, I knew there was a way
There just had to be, in Hell I will not stay
I've flown by the fire, that's up in the sky
I think it's to prevent, going far too high
My wings grew tired, I started to decend
Below were many demons, I couldn't comprehend
What they'd do to me, if they got too close
I'd glide to the smallest, of them I suppose
I saw just the one, by which I would land
He was about six foot, with a rod in hand
He charged and impaled, me upon his rod
Faith was now as hollow, as the "O" in God
------- Author's Notes -------
This is the follow up to Stitches. The story continues next poem.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|MartinV (184.108.40.206) -- Friday, March 14 2003, 10:39 pm|
I see too much here, too may "reflections" for a comment that could address each one and there are many. You have (my opinion based on this poem)a place where you reside, its private, you have it all to yourself, yet, you share this place with us, I thank you for that. I feel your place is not up or down nor left or right, yes, its somewhere in between all that. Perhaps, a neurotic cavern filled with total "sanity and logic." A place of peace, no - or + or gravity, no earthly tugging or tearing except for that which we share with our self.
You set the rivets free of their grip with this one Seiz.
Good, doesn't cut it, Great, few will say that in present times, Enjoy it, hell yes!
|LinzAy (220.127.116.11) -- Monday, March 17 2003, 06:38 am|
I could have sworn i already left a comment on this one.
Great piece of work Seizure.......i think i said it before...but each one gets better and better.
|Stacey (18.104.22.168) -- Wednesday, March 19 2003, 06:17 pm|
Very well written. You're story is comming together. I really liked this one...looking forward to the next one. Left me speechless, i had comment writers block again.
Martin... I need some comment submitting tips!!!(lol)
|To: Stacey, Ref Seizures' Abscond..., (22.214.171.124) -- Wednesday, March 19 2003, 07:40 pm|
As Seize would say, your reply was fine, Very Well Written, is what Seizure appreciates, just simple, honest replies. "Then," there are people/creatures, like me, who try and S Q U E E Z, every single line for cause and revelation!
I looked up ABSCOND in my friend Web's book of words and definitions. Web said, Abscond means; To store up, conceal-more at condiment}; to depart secretly and hide oneself and more if you want to look it up.
Seiz writes in such a way, that I try and track his words to their source, very tough to do, actually, it is not do-able. However, when I feel, not think, but when I feel, I'm as close as he will let be get, then, my pen begins to spit (I think Seize would like the word spit, don't you?} Anyway, I don't think that anyone can reach under the rock far enough to come out with an answer as to what makes Siezure tick!
As I understand it, Seizure is what, 20 years old? Geezz Seize, what will we read a few years from now?
The only, real thing I know to be true about Seize is this, He just wants the truth, period, that's it. Spit or no spit, tell me what you feel, tell me the truth!
You did that Stace.
Now, Stace, aren't you sorry you asked for comment tips?
|Seizure (126.96.36.199) -- Wednesday, March 19 2003, 09:16 pm|
Good Martin. All looking up on my deeper meanings :)... I try to make people think... A lot of people are turned away from poems that they have no idea what the titles mean, but they all important and have something to do with the story...
|Seizure (188.8.131.52) -- Wednesday, March 19 2003, 09:22 pm|
And I hit the post button a little too early there... that's what 4 days with no sleep does to you.
And yes, I say "spit" a lot. But usually when referring to doing vocals, eg, spit into the mic, spit some lyrics, lay some tracks, etc.
And yeah, I'm 20. Soon to be 21 in a week and a half or so. And what you'll see years from now is anyone's guess. I don't even know... it all changes all the time.
And to Stace, glad you're liking the story and following along in order... makes me glad to see a couple people doing that... so you can take it in for what it's worth.. then if you hate it at the end... you hate it.. if not... then i did a good job... that's what it's all about to me..
|LinzAy (184.108.40.206) -- Wednesday, March 19 2003, 09:40 pm|
Yeah. So i just wanted to say that there's no way this thing could be hated in the end!
And it may be a tad bit early but Happy 21st Birthday ****!!!! party hard, have a great time, drink a bunch..um, yea. Heck, it's what imma do when i'm 21. So you gonna buy me drinks now? hehehe
Click here to read other Poems by Seizure
Copyright©2018-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved. No part of this website, including all pictures and written words, may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without permission of the original author of the work. All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner. All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: email@example.com so the proper person may be notified.