Hearing and Fearing

It's amazing what you can fear when you stop to hear
The sounds and subtext that can slip past the normal ear
Creaks and shudders up and down the house
Scratches and shuffles that convince you there's a mouse
Moans and whispers that betray your house as home.

But when you stare too long into the a mirror 
Things that aren't, tend to magically appear.
Apparitions and visions become all too concrete
Fears, Terrors and Horrors lay at your feet.
Tales enough to fill each and every tome.

The Ache.

It comes on slowly and with little warning.

At first, a twinge of memory or a random inkling of longing.

Then the weight. So heavy and hot and pronounced

It burns like fire, it's arrival announced. 

I push it away. I drench it with drink.

I fight my own mind. I resist the think.

Silent screams pound through my head

It’s permanence, its solidity that I dread. 

Yet with time it starts to wane.

It becomes a fire I can contain.

Proving yet again, though I often doubt;

There is no fire - I can’t put out.  

The Four Fliesman of their Own Apocalypse.

Safe. Humble home.
Drowsy future. A restless tome.
Silent beat of the night.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

A Maverick toward the tower.
Four imposers to the power
Silent must be the fight.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Little light. Little view.
Weapons of choice are few.
Douglas Adams would be proud.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Flee to the feel of air.
A place to die is there.
Two almost makes a crowd.
Buzz. Buzz.

Water kills as well as cotton.
Your choice of refuge ill gotten.
 Sleep in the Irish Spring.
Buzz.

Stalked to the door of freedom
So ends the bloodly scrum.
The sounds of silence ring.
.....