And All Things Move Closer To Their End

Photo by hansvandenberg30

The air was thin, while the room was hot,

My eyes scanning, spotting the warm glow of a dress,

She whizzed and whirled, her youthful gait attendant to my plot,

Two legs in unison, eyes like gilded jewels, breasts like rosebuds to caress,

And all things move closer to their end,

The music played louder, blaring as we approached one another,

All around citizens like puppets, contorting, twisting for their marionettes,

The closer we came the more the blackened skies clapped their thunder,

Heat, sweat, breath, two bodies going under,

And all things move closer to their end,

The smell of flesh, the taste of Cleopatra in a secluded place,

Chilly night air, her nervous hands peeling down my chest,

This woman a query, for to be unmarried was her chosen disgrace,

Yet farther we went into the dark, and in her naked arms I did feel blessed,

And all things move closer to their end,

In the grass we lay, the crickets chirping, the bats fleeing from the day,

And that’s when I awoke, disrobed, I found that our love had already begun to decay,

And all things move closer to their end,

Through the trees and past the creek, I found my way back to my home,

In a town quiet as a grave, I knew not what was before me,

For sound I slept all through the night with dreams of that woman who left me alone,

Come morning the next day I wandered out and was seized by the committee,

Every hand gnashing at my coat,

And all things move closer to their end,

Pleading, swearing, I fought to be released,

They dragged my body along the cobblestone,

The earth beneath so cold, wet and deceased,

Nails scraping bloody lashes on my skin, malicious, all sounds contorted into a single groan,

And all things move closer to their end,

The voices rose like fires into the sky,

Drowning away my single lament in a howl of united retribution,

The rage tore me inside and out, every mouth spewing that I die,

No trial, no judge, no jury and no absolution,

I know not what I have done,

And all things move closer to their end,

“method of murder”, claimed that grey old demon the reverend, “is penetration thrice in the waist, twice in the mouth and once in the lower back”,

“A most disturbingly irreverent act”

The mob acquiesced I must be the culprit to slay an unmarried girl through means of filthy incivility,

That beauty I met just one night past, a quiet slip in a dress, it is I who could never perform such an attack,

It was a lowly farmer’s daughter who hath incited such fervent ire, shocked was I to see such obsession over lost fertility,

Even Jesus loved the whore,

And all things move closer to their end,

Tongues lashed in my face, “he’s forsaken God”, was borne from the wail that filled the hall,

Onward and onward they went in a fury too mad for any one man to comprehend,

My head was bashed, my legs broken, bloody leftovers followed after my crawl,

I look to God and a sickly voice escapes the chapel, while no angels do descend,

And all things move closer to their end,

Who gives life also takes it away,

And all things move closer to their end,

The rain pissed down as they dragged my mangled body out into the street,

My vision blurred, my entire form a wreck of torment, pain seeping out to fill the cracks in the path,

The chanting of a verdict, disgusting, false and incomplete,

The victim of confusion and wrath,

And all things move closer to their end,

Children sobbing, their tears join the rain as it scatters blood and bone amongst the earth,

Lightning strikes fierce as the clouds darken over my screaming cries,

Agonized faces loom over my desolation, howling for the souls the murdered will never birth,

And with two hands my brother readies my demise,

And all things move closer to their end

The stones break my body beyond repair as I lay in a muddy pit soon to be my grave,

Demons screeching, preparing their talons for the feast,

My mind bends, my faith breaks and I am no God’s to save,

Just a hopeless man, a shrunken pity, dying like a beast,

And all things move closer to their end,

Then there was silence, deep and ancient over me,

There was no agony, no dread or despair,

The rain it fell so softly and the land it did agree,

All my eyes could perceive was the woman lying in the air,

And all things move closer to their end,

I held out my bloodied hand, and it burned upon her cheek,

With our fingers intertwined, her lips breathed in my sorrow,

In such a configuration I draw closer to hear her speak,

Her voice of angelic mystique whispers “the woes we live today will die with us tomorrow”

And all things move closer to their end.

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Dolan

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I'm a student currently studying journalism at App state. Writing is my main passion in life and I currently am focused on writing a novel as my main project with poems on the side. Hopefully after an appropriate amount of time I will have written enough poems to string them together as part of one coherent theme and release a poetry book.