The late grey day presses inky misery through hollow walls
where he lies, abandoned to the hungry hellhound of the night.
Loping on long legs, coat matted and alive with fleas, it leaps
and settles on his tired chest, amber eyes like stinking pus.
Outside, the unlatched gate (where beauty and her loving heart
departed) batters and bangs on screeching hinges, hopeless now.
He strains to lift his bones but the black beast, his burden, weighs down.
At daybreak, soaked in sleepless sweat, he shuts the blind, denies
entry to spectacular dawn. Glorious shards of diamond white
will daily spear and soon will pierce his gloom, just not today.
29 August 2014
black dog
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2 comments:
So interesting how the dog's broken down physical being mimics this man's spiritual /psychological emptiness. I really feel his longing for a lost love, along with his sense of general apathy. But I like the way you end by giving the reader an assurance of hope, even if it's just a glimmer in some distant future. Something we can all hold onto sometime or another in our own personal points in life. Beautifully done!
Yes, the man and his figurative black dog are a good fit for each other. Unremitting bleakness would have been powerful, but I think this ending is brighter.
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