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The Ruins - Part IThe Ruins - Poems of Loss
by William Bethea
Once, when I went to the Darkness;
I left behind my precious things.
When I arrived at Its door,
There was no answer.
Upon returning home,
I found It waiting. The Darkness
Held my precious secrets in its teeth,
Ground them into dust and spit them
In my face, laughing.
Once, there was no where to turn.
The Darkness pretended to be my friend.
It welcomed me into Its lair.
As It fed me, nurtured me,
Comforted me, loved me,
It siphoned away my soul.
As I wept in utter delusion,
The Darkness consoled my broken heart,
Smothered my face into Its bosom,
Offered Its orifices to slake my misery,
Suckled my pain and fed on my loss.
The Darkness would became engorged,
Eyes rolling back, head lolling,
Grinning gleefully, contented,
Collapsing, in unconscious satiation
Until my need arose again.
Returning lucidity repudiated the Darkness.
It fled from my shattered existence, dying.
Only then, did I recognize
The endless irreparable ruins remaining.
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