More poetry transfers from the old Crossroads site...

The Beast
Copyright 2004 (C) Robert Blezard

She stood alone under the streetlight,
Unaware of the danger that stalks the night.
Evil in the darkness...
Spawned of a nightmare.

Mine.

A beast, best left to the shadow,
To look upon it is worse then death.
It has her now...
Tearing, rending, snapping.

Blood.

Hunger is all the beast knows.
It is never sated,
It is always hungry...
Down the street it goes.

Silence.

It hears joy approaching,
A young couple laughing.
Love is like that...
The beast could never understand.

Howling.

The woman screams, running in panic.
The man... no, the boy is frozen.
Fear takes his soul...
The beast eats his heart.

Beating.

The beast can smell the woman’s fear,
She hasn’t gone far.
Never far enough...
Terror always makes the kill.

Hunting.

It finds her lost and alone,
Surrounded by steel and glass.
This is the jungle...
Only the strong live here.

Click.

The gun came from out of nowhere,
The shot resounds through the jungle.
The beast dies...
A bullet through the skull.

Peace?

The woman watches in horror,
Beast shifts to man.
Smoking gun...
She sees the face of evil.

Mine.
-------

The Emotion and the Pain
Copyright 2004 (C) Robert Blezard

To understand my past is difficult for most.
The way I lived was full of shadow.
My family was my strength, my reason for existing.
God was my only true friend, so caring and understanding.

But I was never complete.
School was a joke, I never fit in or cared.
There were never any good times that I can still remember.
But the worst of times will haunt my dreams.

Society was the enemy, I hated it and myself.
It fed off my emotions like a carnivore enraged.
And the more I fought it, the worse it became.
I was helpless.

A weaker person may have rolled over and died.
But I knew that there was reason for life.
Some day I would find my place in the world.
Even if I had to conquer it first.

Yet as time wore on I cared less.
I was more interested in surviving.
My home became my fortress and my heart, black ice.
I cannot tell you what it was like, living only with hate.

And then a voice from outside the darkness called to me.
"Walk with me, my friend," it said.
Is it God’s holy messenger or the Devil in disguise.
I could not let the doubt, allow the chance to pass by.

At first I was hesitant and suspicious of the voice.
But it showed me a world that I never knew.
And life began to have true meaning at last.
There is a place for me.

While my heart will always remain dark inside.
And my eyes will always have a haunted gaze.
The past that I lived and hate.
Will not destroy the promise of the future.

Yet, I’m still not complete inside.
And while life has some meaning now.
Nothing can help me with my remaining pain.
I have always been alone.

And there I stand at the edge of the world.
Torn between the promise and the pain.
Doomed to an Eternity of life.
My heart has died but I must live.
-------

The Nightmare
Copyright 2004 (C) Robert Blezard

Last night I dreamed of what cannot be.
Through the haze of sleep
I see the dreams of youth come to life in my mind.
The dream of a white picket fence... conforming to societies expectations.
At first the nightmare seems almost joyful...
I am part of it, yet unseen, like looking at oneself through a one way mirror.
The man I could have been is tender, loving, and whole in mind and spirit.
He never went though it, he never changed inside.
He never saw how he would be living a lie to exist that way.
His heart did not evolve... the soul did not see the truth.
I have to show him the truth...
He must know what his life is really about...
No matter what the cost...

I shatter the glass that clouds his mind from the truth.
Everyone in the nightmare turns to see the true reflection...
He stands there and looks at me for an Eternity of seconds.
And then sees the lie he has been living for years.
He knows, he understands...
A woman I’ve never known in my life tries to turn the other me away from the truth.
This woman is the catalyst for the vision.
She is this otherworld’s matrix - she holds it together.
In order to be free of this lie, she must not be here.
He hesitates for a second trying to decide if what he’s about to do is the right thing.
I put my hand on his shoulder, reassuring him this isn’t the end.
It is simply a new beginning...
He nods and reaches out towards her.
She seems to shrink away in size and is soon only this fragile, porcelain doll.
It’s time to stop playing with life...
He shatters the doll with his bare hands and the nightmare ends.

I wake to a warm sunny Saturday morning.
The birds outside have been up for hours, children laugh somewhere in the distance.
It’s a good omen.
I reflect on this dream and what it might mean.
But then I quickly realize that I already knew what it meant.
It was about the truth.
It was about the choice I made to live the way I do.
To live the only way I can and retain what’s left of my soul.
I call it a nightmare because it is a reflection of something that I do not want.
Not any more...
It’s not about faith, love, joy, hate, or anything to do with what I might be missing.
No, it’s as simple as three little words from a song I know.
I AM I...