𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬: “A Robustious Poet Who Craves Death” by Darein P. Catchillar

 

Published by: Aliyah Margareth Imbat

Date Published: Feb 2, 2023

Time Published: 11:42 AM

Category: Poetry

Theme: Isolation, Death, Self-Loathing

Fear is the night where I hold myself tightly:

The agonizing pain that devours the believer,

In the blood of my history is the proof of the scathful neglect.

I've always wished not to exist in the world where I belong.

This debile figure I continue to acknowledge—

I illusion defense as my great strength.

But the fust of the tips of my pens know,

I am nobody but this hurly of life in pure greenly.

I am not to be loved when my heart is curdled,

This crescive will to go a bat-fowling:

Mickle is the insurmountable ruined I am,

I will never besort to any of these circles.

I have accepted this twisted sconce of mine.

Nothing harrows me to know that I am dead:

I am ruined and fracted infinitely.

I am not to be held when my lunes divide our hands apart.

And it's alright to know that I can never know life in the shade of hope,

The night I sleep with is horn-mad:

I have grasped hope enough to learn that it hales my soul,

It frushes me to pieces—done I am with the wind.

Painting: Smoker (1969) by Christopher Thompson