The Black Room
I am lost in the labyrinth of life,
wandering around, wondering about
the paths that I have taken.
My timetable mocks me, tells me I should be,
pure and true, in the light of the White Room.
I ask directions from a passing wight
but they lead me into another dead end
and I am yet further from the truth.
I am looking for something I cannot find
I am looking for something I cannot see
I am feeling for something I cannot touch
I am being for something but not for me
Pictures line the corridor walls,
drawn faces of those who choose to be…
…but I am drawn elsewhere…
I am pulled by an unknown force,
past pretty portals, enticing entrances
along a long one way passage
to a dark glow in a bright black mirror.
I touch the surface and my hand is engulfed
like a pebble dropped in oozing oil
And I step through, enlightened by darkness-
I feel at home, I feel alive, I feel.
Just show me where the door is…
…The Black Room is calling.
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Comments
<Deleted User> (4235)
Thu 25th Dec 2008 18:53
I really can relate to this piece. It is a reflection of moments of my own life. Thank you for posting it. :)
Hi again... Also wanted to say that the photo adds to the emotion of the poem. the expression is perfect. winston
Hi again Tony,
Thinking about this poem... could it be made into a short film? Well only by lots of cgi and lots of £ and even then some poeple would say "it's not like I imagined"
This is the power you have, when you write the words. Its grim in a way ... yes. but I like grim sometimes.
Winston
Hi Tony, nice poem, song like.
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Jeff Dawson
Thu 5th Feb 2009 20:25
Hi Tony, this engrossed me, really enjoyed reading. I can't make my mind up about the indented text but it kind of makes it look more like a letter, which is fair enough! Jeff