PERDITION’S PROPHECY
Candice James
Copyright 2009
The emptiness falls through the trees,
Creeps through the grass,
Climbs through my window and embraces me
With a lonely lustful kiss.
It bruises my lips and strangles my heart
Inside this dream that recurs
And runs without intermissions.
It’s a lonely night’s dream
And a dreamy night’s loneliness.
The language is indecipherable
Like hieroglyphics of the heart.
The beat is indistinct, muffled
Like cards dropped on carpet,
Unshuffled, undealt, unmoved;
Like tiny cardboard houses collapsing
Exposing hidden closets, harboring
Dark secrets and ghostly images.
In the distance a hollow bell rings
Inside the silent echo
Of this stolen midnight mass.
Just past the road not taken,
On the highway to perdition’s prophecy,
Each step is witnessed by a teardrop
Spilled within it’s own obscurity.
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