The unnatural world lurks
beneath the plumb
of sensitivity
waiting
for us
to take notice.
It is an eerie place
of ghosts
trapped
between then and now.
In this alternate world
lie the answers
to life and death.
At times the door opens
to invite
us in, but we are wary
of the consequences
that lead us into
the other realm,
calling up things better left alone.
The undead are restless
for fresh hope,
wandering
in their sleep
with
no end.
Caught up in a web
of lies and misdeeds,
tortured by the uncertainty of right now.
Their womb offers
little comfort
and no nourishment.
It is filled with the suffering
and screams of millions,
lost
in the shadows.
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This is really good! I love the creativity and the intense metaphors! Your type of work is something I like to read. What inspired you to write this poem?
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Time of year mostly--sometimes I get one line and then run with it.
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