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Halls of the Dark Muse

Beautifully Morbid

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by
Dark Muse
, 12-06-2009 at 05:35 PM (1529 Views)
Another old poem of mine from high school that I came acorss, and that I have particular foundness of.

Beautifully Morbid

I feel these things are yearning, I feel my heart is turning,
but I do not know what to do. I look upon this darkness
and I see only the inside of my coffin that was made for
you.

I was taken down into this place and now I am left
here dreaming. I feel no fear I am comforted by the
sounds of the dead screaming.

I don’t know what to do. It is like a dream that
I cannot wake up from. But I do not think I could
stand to see the world anyway.

In this darkness it is sweet. The flowers are rotting
and dying against my face, but my grave is a pleasant
place where I can close my eyes and sleep.

I will not wake but that is fine. I enjoy these feelings
I have inside. I like the dark for it is haunting and
beautiful.

I sit here waiting. Waiting to die. I am ready
to be taken away. I am looking up from my coffin
and thinking of all the things that went wrong.

I was not meant to be here, but like it. I
was not meant to sleep but I want to. The people
are walking over head I hear their steps upon the
earth.

Some are weeping and I don’t know why. I find
that death is not so frightening. I embrace the cold
icy hands. The flowers are wilting and dying, dying
with me and I think they are so much more beautiful.

There are no shadows where I am. There is no light
to look into. No fresh air or sunny days. Just the darkness
and the smell of musk. But I don’t mind. The light hurts
my eyes anyway.

I do not miss my friends or family I do not think
they understood me. I am alone and I feel fine. I think
I am floating away. My soul is slipping and my eyes
are closing.

I feel like I could die. I think I am and I will not cry
I never understood why they do. They would morn for me
but only because they think they have to. I do not wish
for their grief if only they would laugh instead that would be
more real.

The flowers are drying and soon they will be
dieing. Dieing just like me and I don’t mind. I
am only waiting to slip away. To close my eyes
for eternity. I think that it is beautiful.

I am fascinated by the feeling of loosing my life.
It was not meant for me but now I do not care. I
would sacrifice myself willingly if I knew it would be
like this.

You can have my life and I will bear your death.
You are not ready anyway. But my life it didn’t mean
much of anything. I only lived to reach this moment
and now I will say goodbye.

I am happy when they are sad, and I will laugh as they
cry. I am calm when they are anxious. I will wait for their
flowers to die, but they will try to keep them alive.

I have no tears, I have no fears. I am slipping away
to my destiny. The darkness it embraces me. My coffin
it is soothing to me. The dead they cry out my name and I
only smile and wait. For now I am coming home.
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Comments

  1. mtpspur's Avatar
    When I saw the title I was delighted. This will be interesting. Was even more intrigued when you revealed its high school origins. Ahh a (slightly??) younger Dark Muse--a glimpse of the lady that was and is to become. Thus the length was not that big a surprise. I suspect NOW you would take a stanza or two out and tighten it a bit. As to the theme you are better at enjoying death then I though at my advanced years the upcoming judgement day interview is weighing on the mind. Anyway thanks for sharing but somehow at the end of all this I got this vision of oyu laughing then going outside walking down the street singing a verse of Singing in the Rain. Macabre indeed.
  2. Dark Muse's Avatar
    Hehe yes my older work at times can be perhaps a touch unnecessarily lengthy and could be tightened up a bit, though I would not actually change my older works, for the represent a stage in my life and expression which I prefer to preserve.

    I delovped my Goth-Romantic views on death in high school and what can I say, never quite grew out of it.
  3. mtpspur's Avatar
    Oh I am all for preserving the past and understand completely as the majority of my collecting is based almost entirely from what interested me from ages 8 to 16 or so. I was just observing your evolution as a poet when (for you I am surmising) the world was bright and pages were for filling.
    Updated 12-06-2009 at 09:24 PM by mtpspur
  4. Dark Muse's Avatar
    Yes, it is interesting, noting how much my work has changed overtime.

    But I do know some poets who would go back and edit thier old work caring more for thier perfection than the sentimentality of the memory.
  5. mtpspur's Avatar
    I agree with oyu. I prefer original works rather then endlessly striving for perfection. Sometimes it's nice to see a writer's progress. Unfortunately in series books which I favor the plateau is often arrived at and the books just retread the rest of their life and it is dreary reading thereafter---I'm thinking of John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee novels--the last few were usatisfying. SHould have stopped at Green Ripper.