Day and Night

Day and Night, Life and Melancholia

By Dawn Illsley

What kind of night

Damns you to restlessness?

Condemns you to sleeplessness?

Letting the dreary dive in.

The melancholy thrives at night,

It gets its life from the idleness,

The quiet, ticking of time,

Creeping by, so slowly.

Building up strength, its forces

No match for a broken heart or open mind.

Consider it all!

Why not?

Sleep is a luxury.

It’s bookended,

By the waking hours

We call life.

But life isn’t all that we desire.

It taunts and ridicules,

Steals and lies,

Throws away the truth for a facsimile.

Those who care seem lost.

Lost in a world of the self righteous fool,

Determined to rule.

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When Darkness Comes

When darkness comes

When the darkness comes,

It blocks out the light.

Hovering overhead to drown me in delight.

A cruel, damp, and soggy mess.

Pours itself into my soul.

While it gasps for air and scratches for life,

My soul sputters and spits the vile mess.

Fighting for life it takes a deep breath,

Takes hold of the darkness and strangles it to death.

I’m Awake

I’m Awake by Dawn Illsley

I’m awake.

Thinking of happy places.

Avoiding the dark ones.

The places I get lost in.

Some things I’ll never understand,

Including myself.

My reason for being.

Why hanging on is torture.

What torture?

Why Hang on?

When letting go is so much more,

When letting go is not giving in.

Giving in to what?

Maybe it’s destiny

Maybe it’s not.

Maybe it’s just right.

Anne Frank poetry

Death March

By Dawn Illsley

We marched like dead souls,

Through hallways, not stopping.

Not daring.

Like the end was our fate.

I feel the shame,

The disgrace.

We quietly weeped,

As we shuffled upstairs,

It’s still, silence I heard,

On that ghostly trek.

My life faded away,

I was stuck there in that place,

Reality dissolved,

Time took a break.

Those little rooms,

Housing ghosts.

The walls paper thin like a dolls house.

Why is it,

Words pour out,

When tears are flowing.

I saw a pile of shoes

They didn’t need anymore.

Telling a story

Of loss,

Of life never led.

A pile of shoes,

In someone’s porch,

makes me think,

Of that day in May.

The deafening silence.

That I witnessed.

The life that was erased.

(Visiting the Anne Frank Museum)

Destiny

Destiny

By Dawn Illsley

I’m trapped by my design

I’m programmed to retreat,

Into the caverns of my mind,

I regress, in defeat.

My destiny

Already written

My time drawing near.

When I look out my window

I see the world I’ve come to fear.

That branch on the tree

Seems frail like me,

It could break

At any moment

And fall

In defeat.

The world is different now

It’s a foreign place,

There is nothing left I know

I’m trapped here in this space.

There was a time

I was brave,

But not now,

I’m afraid.

I’m not sure

When to hide,

When to duck,

What to think.

The time has come

I’m ready now,

Please let me go,

I feel peace.

With my guns drawn

I escape,

This time,

I’m determined

to meet my fate.