Pounding Shadows
the waiting
Pounding Shadows
a sudden grey of chill surrounds us
dives into our flesh
our mind splits from
the pain
forcing our eyes closed
trying to drive out the shadows
within the comfort of our dreams
eyes drifting in a sea of glitter
we try to mend the split
the chasm
but the shadows never leave
and begin to pound, uncaring but aware
sparks flying across the chasm
the wound
like birds scared into flight
pain searing, scorching
tightening its grip
and the wound ever widening
Pounding Shadows
our darting eyes
sheathed in darkness behind closed lids
the darkness
glitter gone, the chasm wide
pain enveloping us
like dull, stabbing knives and blunt hammers
We force our eyes open
hoping there for some light, somewhere
the light
that will drive the shadows to dust
to make the shadows share our pain
But there is no light
our mind, cloven in two, races
races to grasp the moment
the realisation
races for a distraction, for comfort
races for answers, in the darkness
but we are standing still
Pounding Shadows
our eyes, cast downward, seeing nothing
try to will our feet to move, to run
the agony
to find light, any light
but they are glued to the ground
by shadows laughing in the shadows
we are immobilised and afraid
hurting, head aching, still looking down
the pain
we try to scream out, scream our pain
hoping, daring our feet to move
willing every muscle, every joint
in a forward jolt
our body jerks into motion
the awareness
we close our eyes again
at the sensation of movement
sensing illusory release
Pounding Shadows
but the shadows, knives and hammers
begin to work harder, distracting
the reality
reminding us of our pain, the pain
pounding harder and harder
widening the wound, the canyon
we are not walking!
we are falling, arms outstretched
the fall
back arching, hips turning
the relentless shadows
beating us down, distorting us
we crumble into a heap
a formless, flaccid pile of putty
the ooze
our splitting head reeling
from the ground’s impact
and our eyes are forced open, but see nothing
Pounding Shadows
we open our mouth
to try once again to scream
the effort
scream out our pain, the pain
but the only sound that escapes our formless lips
is the last wind of a dying gasp
the knives and hammers
try to lock in stasis
the stillness
but we force ourselves to roll
to find some support within
within our flaccid, formless goo
our splitting head
so tortured and in twain
the brutality
sends out one last desperate spark
like flint against a hardened stone
and in the now, the two hemispheres clash
Pounding Shadows
we open our eyes
we are on our back
the flailling
staring with searing eyes into a waxing sun
questions forming like beads of sweat
how? why? who? …
those hungering shadows
flee from the light
the fear
their knives and hammers
drop to the ground
like the crash of steeple bells
we close our eyes
but the light is growing
the glow
like a warm hand on a cold day
we begin to feel its heat
and the pain begins to ease
Pounding Shadows
a bridge forms
across our sundered minds
the beauty
like a rainbow
we open our mouth to speak
but instead breathe in saving grace
a great and wonderful sigh
is heard within our soul
the spirit
relief etched on our brows
withered looks begin to recede in relief
as a wounded heart opens up, now exposed
the light pierced the pounding shadows
they are gone
only to linger
outside light’s edge
with retrieved knife and hammer in hand
Pounding Shadows …
… the waiting
©Thomas Crandall, October 2021
This poem is excellent.