Digging Or Climbing


Digging or climbing


Fissure in the ground gaping wide

Fresh earth and stone exposed to the elements

Raw and ravaged, red the clay

Deep darkness down inside - heat and chill

The venting of warmth turning cold

The dark mountain looms over

Shadow falls across the hole

Night is come early, no moon tonight

Sun is lost in memory far away

Chilly stillnesss settles close

Unsettling, unnerving, heightened anticipation

Fear begins to rise - a terror of the night

Imagination running wild - frantic and panting inside

But outside still and cold


The hand drops down to scoop the fresh earth

A handful at a time - each finger turning raw

Fist by fist whether digging or climbing

I do not know

Compelled, persuaded, pursued by imagination

Quivering in expectancy, teeth grinding in anticipation

Fear permeates the mechanical form

That scrambles madly thus

Lonely in the still of the night

in the shadow of the dark and melancholy mountain

Chill of darkness rising up and pushing down

Caught between two worlds - the fissure

Whether climbing or digging I do not know

Only I must continue my frantic journey

Exerting much energy but going no place

Am I digging my grave or attempting escape

I do not know


Do I dig deeper to hide from the presence of the oppressive mountain

Or do I climb out to escape the fearsome chasm

I thrash and grab feverishly, handfuls of dirt

Covered in mud and grime, stinking

Clay stained skin and broken nails packed full of muck

Tongue tastes only fear and dirt, teeth are ground together with dirt

Nose smells only madness and folly

Oversensitive ears tremble at every self made sound

Roaring and ringing inside at the dark stillness outside

Skin rashed, cut and torn

Quivering with chill, fear, and self abuse

The imaginary lash and rod striking often and hard

Incessantly with asymmetric tempo

Soft and hard and deep and bruising

Bones are brittle; joints ache with deep intensity

There is no water to be had - desperate for water

But only dirt for drink

Eyes blinking and tearing, attempting to see but nought

Whether digging or climbing I do not know

And the fissure is as raw as ever


By Compelled Three


compelled3 compelled3
46-50, M
1 Response Mar 7, 2009

hippyheart<br />
<br />
Thanks for the feedback.<br />
We each have such challenges that loom before us and it gets confusing at times. My choices impact so many others - but sometimes I feel so compelled that while I know I have the choice, I just seem to give in to internal anarchy. I trust that I will, however, shake free of these things eventually - I pray. Then I will be free from the darkness that sometimes overwhelms my spirit.<br />
<br />
Take care.<br />
<br />
Compelled Three