I Am The Squirming Toad ~ Poetry ~ MobiusTripz

The Doors,

Riders on the Storm,

Two candles flickering,

In the darkness of my room a lay alone.

In the pitch blackness of my mind's heart and soul,

I still only see me and you,

other than the flicker,

All here that remains is cold & dead.

The music blares,

as loudly as love I thought we shared,

I thought you really cared,

Didn't you even care?

My eyes runneth' over,

Into the darkness... dazed... for months now,

alone forevermore...

I've stared.

The love I had for you boundless...

Its still an ember,

but fading... burning out,

I'm too fading away.

You don't even answer me much anymore...,

My friend once,

Again simply,

Betrayed.

What never truly started,

Certainly seemed to end.

Certainly seems to have met an end.

You... I'd still now forever love & defend.

Almost love shared,

We had in our grasp easily and perfect if so wanted,

Denied.

At life's table together we once dined,

"Girl, you gotta love your man",

I guess I'll never understand!,

Do you understand?,

My life on you depends.

That killer on the road,

Always chasing me,

My mind is the squirming toad,

All, just... Riders On the Storm.

Tea candles like love... both flicker out,

My heart hurts still months later,

This darkness envelopes me,

As my mind still that squirming toad.

All just riders on the storm,

Is to suffer just my norm?,

Riding out this lonely cold dark storm,

In darkness all alone... with only thoughts of closing Doors.

Life always just a storm,

Always is a storm,

Love evades me yet again,

My life as black & blue with scorn.

Killer on the road.

Love,

a killer on the road,

This storm on me bestowed.

A killer on the road.

Patrick Crites Poetry ~ The Reaping Scout ~ Poetry

Mayhaps you've met the crow
That caws thoughout the night,
Who's onyx color is omen of
Chaos harbinger in flight.

Upon a night yet moonless
The demon there did call
Flitted into shadow shape
And from out of shade did crawl

A pleasant sight at first
Until talon did reave
The souls of several alley cats
Where life no longer breathed

I was off that night to bar
To fetch warm pint of hops
To quench this thirst arose
And satisfy mine chops

Recently been widowed
Sweet Mary Mcree
Came tumbling right out of
That barroom jubilee

I met her then at corner
Of Solomon and Toll
And ghastly grimace spread upon her
As the crow came for her soul.

At first I nearly shrieked
To drunk me thinks t'believe.
eyes wide and white and empty
As the contents of her bleeds

Twas then that this crow
First took in my own sight
And the terror spread upon me
Yes on that moonless night

I asked if I was crazy,
Or perched upon the peak
Of insanity or madness
Either outlook bleak.

The crow did caw to I
As chilling wind would blow
"Beast are we acquainted?"
Reply : " not for you to know."

He said just then with red eyes
"You may call me Virsago."
"I'm here as scout for now,"
"You see the dead go where i show."

Twas then I begged the query,
"Why have you appeared to me?"
"To lead you home my son"
"And make your path be seen."

"I take from earth the strong."
"To leave only the weak."
"Preparing here a dinner,"
"Or a feast for demons yet asleep."

I stood there frozen now
And wondered at the reason
"Because you are to lead,"
"For its the devil's season."

"Surely youve mistaken me,"
"I'm certainly no asset.
"Oh but little man..."
"You're perfect in every facet."

I questioned then again
My sanity- where stand?
But looking down i noted
The scarlet blade in hand.

"You see its quite inituitive,"
"For those here that are marked"
As charcoal wings emerge
From shoulder they embarked.

The pain of splitting bone
As sinew parted way
To free up feather rot with all
Maggot, worm and decay.

I felt the hiss of heat
As I grabbed onto my face
But shocked i was to find that
All my skin had melted 'way.

I smiled then with laughter
As I wondered at my name
But the words then rushed upon me as
I lost all worldly shame.

I felt my self then thinning
The weight of body gaunt and slim
As a black cloak rose around me
And I spoke the words "The Grim"

-Patrick Crites
  "The Reaping Scout"
July, 7th 2018