The Rolling Quill: A Poet on Wheels

Life in the Land of the Dead
I know i havent posted in a long long time, ive gotten bogged down with life and work...ive written about 5 poems since i last posted but i chose this one cause it is my first 'epic' or 'story' poem, let me know what you think :D

"Life in the Land of the Dead"

On a night that I failed to drift to sleep,
the full blue moon hung high above my keep.
It reflected an eve when Poe did weep,
over many lines of ravens that speak.
‘Dark and dreary’ he wrote, weak and weary,
his eyes so bleary he saw not clearly,
the spectacle which stained my lunar land.
The still hum of night filled my dulled senses,
weaving and deceiving my defenses.
Rhythm of rain kept my eyes unblinking,
in the witching hour that kept hearts beating.
Every tick of every chimed clock,
every sway of every tree’s stalk,
brought forth fear so real that I could not talk.
The shadows moved swiftly before my eyes,
only to prove that nothing ever dies.
Passing words and imagined whispers spoke
of all these brothers and sisters in life
and love still in death and forgotten strife.
The room was flooded with the souls long lost,
leaving my breath laden in lifeless frost.
Visage of Venus shimmered in blue eyes,
silence was muffled, disembodied cries.
Life in lands of the dead spilled from my head,
Melancholy conquered all of the dread,
that came with the spirits of the once dead.
Under guidance of Gelos, salt left wounds
that festered too long in crumbling cocoons.
Memories fell back to a soul left cold
from all the loss that was never foretold
by a merciless deity, so bold.
Elder ones retraced the wisdom I knew
To be true from the demons that I slew
when their smiles shone in me so real and true.
Parts of my puzzled life began to fade
back to the nether from where they had strayed
when the veil let them slip into the shade
of my darkened room where I always stayed.
Left alone again, unchained from all of
the beasts that were once all of my burden,
that I kept safe behind my suede curtain
with old spoiled dreams, now left so uncertain.
Clash of thunder and a flash of lightning,
brought me back to life, knuckles whitening.
My mind raced with the silent haunting scream
that comes in the wake of a waking dream.
A Note From Your Host:
   I will be posting poems and other things I've written casually from time to time.  Feel free to comment.  I hope you enjoy what you read, and what you discover.   

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