I’m Gonna See The Batman Movie This Friday, I Swear

That said, I’ve had writer’s block for more than a week.

But I’m hoping this next thing here will fix that. I woke up with this in my head (at like 5 am this morning). For the record, it’s 5:18 am now.

The inky blackness steals away the feeble flickerings of the light from my torch;
The nightmare that I have dreamed of for years has finally arrived;
My footsteps echo against the stony walls, quickly fading into oblivion;
It is obvious to me that they are desperately seeking a quick escape as well;
I place my hand against the wall and shiver deeply inwardly at its coldness;
The granite here has never seen the light of day;
These tunnels were carved long ago, by some other ruler, for some other purpose;
I slowly descend the steep path that the stairs set before me;
I breathe through my mouth shallowly;
The air is dank, with an undercurrent of mold and rot;
And perhaps something else my brain chooses not to identify;
As I approach them, my soul tries to shrink away;
It does not want do this, this last deed;
I do not want to fulfill this last promise, made to dying man so long before;
Madness threatens to break my mind, as I come to the first of them;
They are already reacting to my presence;
Howling at my disturbance of their constant nightmare;
They beat their frail bodies against the impenetrable bars guarding them;
Their eyes are widely exposed, searching for relief from the unending night;
But they will not find it, as they have long been blind from lack of light;
Outwardly I revile from their outstretched arms;
But inwardly I weep for what they have become;
No more than creatures now;
We have sucked the last dredges of humanity from them;
In a vain attempt to punish them and their nonconformist ways;
Their human ways;
Some had always seen them as creatures;
But I did not, knowing them to be no more or less than myself;
Cursed, they said she was;
No more, no less;
My breath quickens as I reach the last cell block on the right;
It is for this that I have made my journey;
In my mind, her beauty has no boundaries;
She is like an angel to me, pure and whole;
I begin to wish that I were blind as well;
As to not see what I am destined to soon see;
The guards here do little more than provide just the most basic sustenance;
They are no caretakers;
Nor do they give a damn about the lives under their thumbs;
They do their menial duties as quickly as possible;
Leaving their human filth to rot in their own waste;
The rats don’t even venture forth here;
The prey is not worth it for them to make the trip;
If there is a hell, then I am truly standing in it now;
Looking upon my sister and her once lovely hair;
Her shining eyes, the wondering curiosity that was always alight in them;
Shine no longer, glint no longer;
The vestiges of her last beating still are dimly apparent even in my feeble light;
No more will I ever hear her laughter;
Not even in my dreams;
For I will always be haunted by her dull eyes forever more;
Watching me without sight in this cold dank place;
A place of bad dreams, of desolation;
Isolated from the rest of the world;
Saving them from their cruelest actions;
Made upon the least deserving of their children;
Even my family, with its wealth and dignity;
Could not bear her and her wild fantasies;
But in my youth, she was to me a fairy;
A magical creature through which dreams come true;
She was truth and humility;
And although not like her, I saw myself in her;
Only to see that part of myself wither and die now;
At the sight before me;
I was not yet a man when she was brought here;
Otherwise I would have stopped it;
Or so I tell myself;
In reality, I’m not sure what my actions would have been;
It is only the thoughts of her imprisonment;
That have been part of my every waking day;
From that time onwards;
That have made me into the person I am now;
Without those thoughts–without those nightmares;
I wonder at whom I might have become;
Just another soulless human?
Waiting to strip another of their rights to humanity?
A moan escapes my lips, and I fall to the cold stone floor;
Barely managing to hold onto my lit torch;
She makes no movements;
She is completely still here, unlike in my memories and dreams;
In my mind, she is always dancing to a tune no one but she can hear;
Sometimes, as a child, I would think I could hear it too;
And I would dance with her;
But now the music has dried up;
The joyful sounds of the drums, of the lute and harp, no longer sound;
Deathly silence now abounds;
Breaking all creatures who dare stand in its way;
The other soulless figures around me moan and gibber;
Once they too were also bright beacons of light into the drabness that we call life;
Now, they too fade dimly into the morbid background of existence;
She is quiet now, uttering no sounds;
Not letting on to anyone that she is here;
I had hoped, with the faithfulness of a lost child;
That I would come here and see her smile once more;
But I bow my head against the truth of reality;
Her once shining eyes, her once dancing spirit;
Will never again move with the light of the fairies and their magical ways;
No, because of my cowardliness, and my parents’ respect for society;
I will never see my sister again;
I see before me a lost little creature;
Dried spittle is caked on her cheek;
Two of the fingers on her right hand are missing;
Missing for an untold length of time;
She is bald, or nearly so;
From her administrations, or from her poor diet, I’m not sure;
Her skirt is hiked up, and is ripe with once fresh blood;
And she sees nothing now, at long last;
Not because she is blind with darkness;
But rather because she is blind with death;
Its icy fingers have finally squeezed her mighty heart into listless silence;
Her rape may have had something to do with it;
It may have just pushed her past her will to live;
Alone here in this lonely night;
Away from the demons at long last, she is now free to dance as she will;
In my heart of hearts, I hope with that faithful hope of youth;
That she will go back to her company of fairies;
So they can dance away the night;
And bury her life’s memories with each passing song.

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~ by lastcrazyhorn on July 23, 2008.

6 Responses to “I’m Gonna See The Batman Movie This Friday, I Swear”

  1. That’s a very haunting poem. I want to storm down there and break open the cells, and rescue as many as I can.

    I will try to figure out how to sign up to your wordpress, soon…

  2. Haunting is a great discription. Very cool.

  3. You sucked me right in, I felt like I was there.
    I was even holding my breath….powerful

  4. your writing is so captivating and I agree with the others that it is haunting. I like reading what you write 🙂

    Anyways take care!
    Chey

  5. Hey Fool! That is some pretty deep writing. I too felt like I was actually there. You are a very talented person Val. I am glad you work with us. Peace Out!

  6. Wow, you are *so* able to bring a story alive, to pull a reader into the emotions of the story folks. Oh my oh my, I’m so glad you share your stuff with us.
    Nan

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