Sanctum Atra (The Wretched Retreat)

[xyroph]

[This is the third edit of this poem, edited once for conversion to lyrics, and once again, here, for readability as spoken word.]

With dawn comes the aching, as the strength I found in dreaming
shrugs off my shoulders like a tattered veil
and I’m afraid to open my eyes, 
for I know just what they’ll find...

This air is infectious, leaves me breathless
struggling for the taste of oxygen
Lay down, stay down, and count to ten-
maybe tomorrow, I’ll try again

But the hours tick by, as daylight dies
cold tears sting in my eyes and dry, I
can feel my weary body giving up the fight...

What beauty I find, in the bars that cage me in
in the scars and gleaming scars, that decorate my skin
and the black behind my eyes is beginning to seep out-
streaming down my cheeks- it’s time to sleep now

And I will close my stinging eyes, and no more prayers
will tell their sorry lies, 
to keep me alive

And it smells of the sick: this dreary room where my whole life sits, I
wont mourn the loss of another day, it’s just one day less...
Of wasting away, now 
I'll die 
...so quietly

And I could say that I’m not hurting anymore,
but I’m not getting better, and god, my bones are sore
While the words I can’t stutter have turned my tongue to stone
around my toughened heart, I’ve built a shambled home

But oh, the beams are creaking, the floors and ceilings leaking,
I can hear the walls, they’re speaking, they will bury me alive
There’ll be no light...

I’m buried under heaps of flesh, of muscle, sinew, meat and bone
none of which can help me, 'cause this place is not my home
all I wanted was a safe space, to rest my head
but this weary house is burning down, 
It smells of the sick and sings songs of the dead

Eyelids falling heavy, I exhale my sick vapors
while I watch my body pale, my skin frail as damp paper
each silver scar, splitting me open, bleeding out my illness...
each passing drop, so deep and black, it threatens me with stillness

And I will say goodbye, and no more prayers 
will tell their sorry lies
to keep me alive

I try to avert my eyes 
and thank my bitter tears
for drowning out the sight
while I cursed my body for failing me
it cursed me for the things I never let you see

...and now it decomposes, beckons for the rats and roaches
to love it like I never did
warm eyes and 
soft skin

It’s time to sleep forever in this wretched bed I’ve made
my veins are pouring forth black ink to decorate my grave
never thought I’d go unwilling into this good night
pleading frantic silent prayers that just don't 
come out right

I’ll send my sweetest prayers on soft beating wings
to find you, hold you, and 
take away the sting
if there’s no life left, in the songs I sing
then wrap them up, and bury them with me
so quietly


[This is my first post here at the pigpen, and this is kind of on the mild side as far as my writing goes. Just wondering if heavier, more graphic(not senseless or gratuitous) stuff will be welcome/appropriate. I'm so happy to have found this place.]

Also, here's the video if anyone wants a listen to the song version: Youtube- Sanctum Atra

[billy]

no time as of yet for feedback but we are an adult site. while we don't allow gratuitous violence/sex child porn; we do allow poems on such subjects. we don't ban for posting poetry but there may a really rare occasion when we ask for some sick shit to be removed

[Leanne]

Just dropping a note to let you know I've read this, enjoyed it, don't find it remotely offensive or distasteful and will come back later to go over it properly. I do like to read things through a few times when they've got some meat to chew on, rotting or otherwise.

Echoing billy, darker than this will be fine but we'll play it by ear -- really gratuitous stuff needs to be behind closed doors but for the most part, we're fairly liberal in the spirit of diversity. This is definitely not gratuitous -- in fact, parts of it are downright beautiful.

[billy]

hi xyroph. thanks for all the good feedback you've been upping. also; thanks for putting the music and poem in misc as we can get to see both in the same post.
you have a good voice, the song [vocalization of the poem] sounds really good as does the music. nice pussy too after hearing the song it's sort of screws me up for any in depth feedback because i was impressed with the song.

for me the song is a song and the poem when read can be done differently because words don't have to be squeezed to fit the music.  same for the slam style. all are different conveyances.

the pause in spoken word  will play a big part thus;

With dawn comes the aching,
as the strength I found in dreaming shrugs off my shoulders like a tattered veil

it's hard for a reader to work out who someone else would talk the poem. all you can really do is talk it out loud as you want it.
i do think as spoken word you could remove some of the excess wordage. fine for the song but i'm presuming you want more impact from the slam version.

But oh, the beams are creaking, the floors and ceilings leaking,

I can hear the walls, they’re speaking, they will bury me alive
There’ll be no light... these parts, and there are many in the poem are almost gem like, the sound is exceptionally good on the ear. the images are full and pull the reader into the stanza and the poem. love it

as for poetry in general, as i stated, we're fine with heavier or/and more graphic stuff. we've already see your pussy for god's sake

welcome to the site.

[This is the third edit of this poem, edited once for conversion to lyrics, and once again, here, for readability as spoken word.]

With dawn comes the aching, as the strength I found in dreaming
shrugs off my shoulders like a tattered veil
and I’m afraid to open my eyes, 
for I know just what they’ll find...

This air is infectious, leaves me breathless
struggling for the taste of oxygen
Lay down, stay down, and count to ten-
maybe tomorrow, I’ll try again

But the hours tick by, as daylight dies
cold tears sting in my eyes and dry, I
can feel my weary body giving up the fight...

What beauty I find, in the bars that cage me in
in the scars and gleaming scars, that decorate my skin
and the black behind my eyes is beginning to seep out-
streaming down my cheeks- it’s time to sleep now

And I will close my stinging eyes, and no more prayers
will tell their sorry lies, 
to keep me alive

And it smells of the sick: this dreary room where my whole life sits, I
wont mourn the loss of another day, it’s just one day less...
Of wasting away, now 
I'll die 
...so quietly this line is excellent

And I could say that I’m not hurting anymore,
but I’m not getting better, and god, my bones are sore
While the words I can’t stutter have turned my tongue to stone
around my toughened heart, I’ve built a shambled home

But oh, the beams are creaking, the floors and ceilings leaking,
I can hear the walls, they’re speaking, they will bury me alive
There’ll be no light...

I’m buried under heaps of flesh, of muscle, sinew, meat and bone
none of which can help me, 'cause this place is not my home
all I wanted was a safe space, to rest my head
but this weary house is burning down, 
It smells of the sick and sings songs of the dead

Eyelids falling heavy, I exhale my sick vapors
while I watch my body pale, my skin frail as damp paper
each silver scar, splitting me open, bleeding out my illness...
each passing drop, so deep and black, it threatens me with stillness

And I will say goodbye, and no more prayers 
will tell their sorry lies
to keep me alive

I try to avert my eyes 
and thank my bitter tears
for drowning out the sight
while I cursed my body for failing me
it cursed me for the things I never let you see

...and now it decomposes, beckons for the rats and roaches
to love it like I never did
warm eyes and 
soft skin

It’s time to sleep forever in this wretched bed I’ve made
my veins are pouring forth black ink to decorate my grave
never thought I’d go unwilling into this good night
pleading frantic silent prayers that just don't 
come out right

I’ll send my sweetest prayers on soft beating wings
to find you, hold you, and 
take away the sting
if there’s no life left, in the songs I sing
then wrap them up, and bury them with me
so quietly


[This is my first post here at the pigpen, and this is kind of on the mild side as far as my writing goes. Just wondering if heavier, more graphic(not senseless or gratuitous) stuff will be welcome/appropriate. I'm so happy to have found this place.]

Also, here's the video if anyone wants a listen to the song version: Youtube- Sanctum Atra

[xyroph]

Thanks so much y'all! I'm looking forward to sharing more and reading more. And yes, I suppose the ice is broken thanks to Booboo the cat! Hahaha, cheers