I can see you,
dancing in my shadow.
I can hear you,
singing my cursed songs.
One by one, I will rise
And push you out of the sun.
Day by day, day and night,
You will no longer ruin my fun.
Because...
I am bound...
For Hell.
I am bound, bound, bound to Hell!
I am bound, bound, bound for Hell!
You threw me aside,
Like a thought in the breeze.
You have stolen my voice,
Like a witch from the sea.
Now I am coming,
Coming,
To set myself free! I am coming,
Coming,
For you...
I am bound, bound, bound for Hell!
I am bound, bound, bound to Hell!
But I will not go!
Not alone...
I am taking company.
I will not leave...
This world alone...
as I am embracing clarity.
Because I am Bound,
Bound,
Bound for Hell.
And you are coming,
Coming,
Coming...
Along...
With me...
About the Creator
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from Jennisea Redfield and writers in Poets and other communities.
His Haibun
He does not like poetry; I write it anyway and do not tell him. It's true his face is not a poet's face. It is round and open, youthful; too apt to be compared to the sun. His nose is neat. It is impossible to imagine him smoking a cigarette, terse, full of cheekbones and tension. His warmth burns my fingertips. I am here for his fascinating body, the haphazard freckles I touch one by one; he is here for my eyes, just my eyes. A sunbeam sneaks through the curtains and pierces us both, sizzling the spices of his skin. I inhale and wrap myself in him. He kisses my eyes.
By TheSpinstress6 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Gosh this was so intense and powerful! I loved it!