Vacant

As surely as I stand before you

I am also quite vacant. 

I feel so empty inside,

like a man whose entrails

have spilled to the floor.  

Where there was a once beating heart

there is now only a hole. 

Where once there were lungs 

to breathe the air of freedom,

now there are only cavities. 

Breath is stolen away. 

Life has long since ebbed from me.  

My body is hung on display,

cast over the wall as a sign and a wonder. 

Where my eyes once were,

there are now only abandoned sockets. 

The crows have eaten their fill.  

My blasphemous tongue droops

from an opened mouth,

swollen and decaying,

pecked at and hanging.  

My feet dangle below

covered in blood,

now dried and caked.  

My arms are stretched out

in blatant mockery. 

I am a spectacle

for those passers-by,

a warning to those 

whose hearts are wanting and wayward.

This is the reward 

of the wicked and the wretched. 

This is the portion of the damned.  

There is no redemption here.

All hope is lost. 

There is no salvation.

There is only death and decay. 

The noose around my neck

suspends my lifeless body.  

My flesh will be food for the dogs,

my bones left to be bleached by the sun.  

They will have no grave

and no place of burial.  

There will be no remembrance 

of the man that I was.  

There will be only dust,

and that carried away by the winds.  

◄ You Win

Yet We Hold On ►

Comments

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Shehariah

Tue 11th Aug 2020 13:34

Shifa, thank you. A hundred times thank you. Your words are always so kind and encouraging.

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Shifa Maqba

Tue 11th Aug 2020 11:11

I have said this before, but I'll say it a hundred more times if I have to-- your ability to convey such vulnerability and pain through your poem is unlike anyone else's.
More light and power to you!

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Shehariah

Tue 11th Aug 2020 05:15

Mocosy, thank you for the like.

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Shehariah

Tue 11th Aug 2020 00:54

Jordyn, thank you for the like.

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Shehariah

Tue 11th Aug 2020 00:52

Keith, thank you so much for the feedback! It’s quite encouraging.

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Shehariah

Mon 10th Aug 2020 23:08

Bluesky, I like that perspective. I need new things. I’m learning how to live sober and have integrity (living in the light) and what it is to live without shame and hopelessness. I lived most of my life in utter darkness.

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Shehariah

Mon 10th Aug 2020 23:04

Nicola, thank you. I’ll take all the light I can get. 😊

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Shehariah

Mon 10th Aug 2020 23:01

Paul, oh wow! That’s really interesting. I’m going to check that out. I also want to rewatch V for Vendetta. I saw it many years ago. I’ve never heard of Kett.

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keith jeffries

Mon 10th Aug 2020 10:12

This poem is highly descriptive in the horror it portrays. Yet the word vacant stands out as being the emotion most prominent. To be vacant is wounding to the soul making it downcast and morose. Although the content of this poem is sombre to say the least, it is well crafted and retains a chronologal order whereby the mind stands back to see the results of being vacant.

Well done and thank you

Keith

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Moon.girl

Mon 10th Aug 2020 09:07

Some times it's good yo feel vacant. Its then you are ready to accept new things.. strength n happiness to you.

Nicola Beckett

Mon 10th Aug 2020 08:10

Oh dear...... X sending light x

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Paul Sayer

Mon 10th Aug 2020 07:33

You need to read about 'Ketts Rebellion' his demise was exactly this.

Found by the King's soldiers and mercenaries... Just a couple of miles from me.

In August 1549, the Duke of Somerset sent John Dudley, Earl of Warwick, and an army of 12,000 English troops and 1,200 German mercenaries to Norwich to quell a rebellion Norwich was surrounded and Kett and his whole army of just a handful of men armed with clubs and pitch forks was ordered to surrender.

One of the rebels lowered his hose and tauntingly bared his backside. An archer, with "commendable accuracy, shot an arrow into his rump."
(He could have a Zen archer in a previous life) 😉

There are many truths about Kett that the PTB at that time (and to this day keep hidden)

We still remember him!

I was born in Norwich and spend all of my childhood on Mousehold Heath, which is common land given to the common, poor people, chartered never to built upon.

Hence my love of the film V and my previous choice of mask.

Paul.

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