The feeling creeps in slowly.
Panic, as I flip through once, twice, three times. I search the normal places, beside the bed, the couch, at the top of the stairs, by the window in the kitchen next to the heater, the window that shows me the sun as he wakes and the moon as she wakes. It’s not there and not even the sparkling stars in the clear skies can make me feel better. I search inside bags and tucked beneath the mattress, I pull out the bed and feel my heart sink, my eyes prickle and for a moment I question my sanity. What if. What if I didn’t own that book, what if I just borrowed it, that would certainly make sense and suddenly it feels like my world is crashing, I just want to read the book, now, I search some more determined to be sure that the book is at least not here. Emptiness envelopes around me, darkness falls upon my heart, I feel a great void where a story should be, not any story and certainly not a recall from the many times I have read it before, a void created through the lack of pages to turn, the lack of worn out paper in my hands. The emptiness has become me.
Karen Hayward 2015. ©
Zadkiel I call upon thee now to give clarity to a final deed, did I turn my back on a soul in need? Is forgiveness the acceptance of even the broken, no matter how harsh their words spoken? Must I forgive time and time again whilst they sprinkle down hatred that fills me with pain?
Zadkiel, can I forgive, forget and move on? Can I forget the shock in their voice as I questioned their choice? Was I wrong, should I have remained strong? Am I not her protector, is it not my duty to shield her? Was it selfish, did I put her ahead of their needs when they are so desperately in search of the broken seed? Zadkiel, I am lost and in fear, I searched for you but could not see you near. The words flowed with surprising ease as I watched her fall to her knee’s. Her beliefs torn apart, her thoughts questioned she stumbled upon lies a clouded darkness fell upon her eye’s. Chance and chance again, Zadkiel, I gave in and before my eye’s grey scale fell and I saw as I never seen before,
and now her role within, is no more. Zadkiel, I ask for clarity and forgiveness reserved for the strong, is my heart right? Did I do no wrong?
Karen Hayward © 2015.
What is forgiveness? I’ve spoke those words a thousand times over and still I search for peace. I’ve forgiven your knowing spiteful tongue, i’ve forgiven your chosen ignorance. I’ve worked tirelessly to hold together the slipping strings as you have pulled and pulled demanding respect for your title alone. I have shed tears in the darkness on the balance of your belief. I have stood alone day after day because you refuse to accept her. Pride, my pride was swallowed down the moment I became.Standing alone in the darkness with my pride, you have danced holding it up as though a trophy of my defeat, I forgive therefore I am naive, I am weak. I am without bitterness, I am without hate.I am beginning to wonder at what point I should close the gate. You are blinded by your own selfish beliefs. You are blinded by fear. Perhaps, forgiveness is meant for me, I cannot make you see, perhaps this time, forgiveness is meant for me.
Karen Hayward ©2015.
I want the darkness to engulf me
to wrap its cold dead fingers around me
and drain me of what innocence I have left.
I want to be a walker of the night,
to disperse the shadows of doubt
and fill them with the heat of revenge
and when the dark angels are sent
to retrieve my broken soul
I will ask them of their crimson role.
I want the darkness to engulf me.
Archived beyond oblivion
to a megabytes room
where humans cannot go
but I will always know.
Covered in blood I search for the light
as my dreams come alive in the dead of the night.
I feel his sharp nails as he claws at my skin
the veil between sleep is so very thin.
But Fred’s not alone, Jason’s, there too,
and I know in an instant my nightmares are true.
There’s no where to hide there’s no where to go,
covered in blood it’s a dream, oh I know.
But the nails are real, and Jason still comes,
and i’m losing my life as I try to out run.
A small little nick on my porcelain skin,
Freddy is dancing as the knife slips in.
They laugh as they pull gut after limb,
Tearing it out, pushing it in.
An ebbing death for fear to bring.
Karen Hayward ©2015.
I hear whisper’s of your spirit dancing in the leaves
as springs soft whistle skips between the trees,
and you are gone,
in a moment,
swept away on a breeze.