22 October: Call of the Void

By Cliff Lake

 

22 October: Call of the Void

 

I am not a superstitious man…

But someone tell me:

Why do the shadows move?

This lightless room

Vibrant with motion,

Impossible,

So real.

Formless dark advancing,

Immaterial movement menacing…

I am not a superstitious man,

But do my eyes deceive?

In this dark

Only the void is darker.

How may a shadow whisper?

How may a whisper rasp?

Some language unknown slithers,

Sibilance surrounds.

No sense in the syllables,

Until my name sounds.

Who calls to me from the gloom?

No,

This is no calling,

This is negation.

I am not a superstitious man,

But I fear erasure.

The warmth here does not subside,

It is stolen away,

Replaced in chill.

My fingers frost,

My eyelids frozen,

The icing words repeat on loop.

Cold is the absence of heat.

Dark is the absence of light.

Demise is the absence of life.

I fear erasure,

But I am not a superstitious man.

I feel as if I scream,

I hear naught but my name whispered.

This is negation.

Negation of self.

Negation of me.

Existence stolen away,

And there are none to…

…

…

 

 

Cliff Lake 10/22/2026

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2026

Location: Wichita, KS, USA

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

King Thing and the Merry Xmess

By Cliff Lake
King Thing and the Merry Xmess   King Thing was bloviating, Trying out new distortion to bring. King Thing was having a fling, King Thing was tightening the drawstring.   Merry Xmess was causing distress, Creating fireworks was what he did best. Merry Xmess made a fact abscess, Truth and equity he did suppress.   King Thing was soiling his ding, Ridiculous nonsense he would sling. King Thing his ass was wiping With the document constituting.   Merry Xmess was looking for redress From those complaining of his excess. Merry Xmess saluted regress, With a gesture too much a transgress.   King Thing had balls made of brass, Many a criminal he gave a free pass. King Thing created a morass: “Amendment, my ass!” he said with no class.   Merry Xmess had nary a qualm, With great aplomb He would truck out a bomb, While raking in all the coin he could glom.   Merry Xmess and King Thing, Spend all th...
Read more

He Said

By Cliff Lake
  He Said   The silence he spoke, A commentary in omission, And the turned back. He does not leave, The point is driven more deep In rigid remain. An iron refusal he has become, A negation, Featureless now, He is a silhouette in the flesh, And just as mute. The steel of his shoulders Brooks nor accepts no appeal, Yet here he stands, Resolute as rock, And as approachable. Remaining is his comment, One of you has ceased to exist, And he has made the choice. Your petition goes unheard, Should you have dared, But the set and square of this form Allows for no attempt, One may as well plead a wall To become a door. Yet it is none of this that snares the tongue, no… It is the knowledge of the betrayal, Of your betrayal, Of disassociating yourself from trust, A trust that was once complete and unsullied, Cast away for selfish gain, Not a mistake, Once repeated, A mistake becomes the pattern, And the pattern was se...
Read more