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.

Advertisements

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.

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)