Withdrawal


Lay I the eve of Halloween, rest I in dream, tranquil, serene.
Advent of chill and cold return, a time to lull and compare
seasons change, a long spell of fall engenders a spirit's call.
A sudden noise heard in the hall. 'Hello' I call. 'Who is there?'
I turn, my eyes jolt numb, spy I Hannah in the ghostly air
drifting down the silent stair.

Blink I in awe, too soon! The last image of my lost love is past.
Doubt I now, fear, what did I spy drifting down the silent stair?
Nothing of my Hannah remain, not a sound, bar the gushing rain
splashing down some far distant drain. At that vacant space I stare,
lost in enigmatic warmth, a mirror to the pain I bear,
the exchange of my despair.

'Hannah keeps the key to heaven, yet mortal sins, spy all seven.'
Misjudged I this caution, soft dim dreams migrate to she so fair,
her seraphic loving manner, maiden who the gods name Hannah.
I watch her pure flowing banner, apple pie high in the air,
burning passion of naive joy swirling round her golden hair,
binding of the perfect pair.

'Hannah keeps the key to heaven, yet mortal sins, spy all seven.'
Remit this tenet with echoed vigour such, but I not scare.
On this I opt nevermore dwell, break my diamond, undoubtly tell
that twin key frees the gate to hell, could I be so unaware,
spellbound, naive, sightless that my radiant girl could not share
my dark clouds and foul despair?

Quothed I the Tetragrammaton, sunk I into oblivion.
Black fire bleeds this tainted abyss, this blasphemous serpent's lair.
Torpid I lurk in his domain, fetid, he is the fear Logain,
perennial angel of pain. 'Cease!' lied he, 'lest I yet spare
thy idle soul, and limb from limb and flesh from bone I doth tear.
Forego these pits of despair.'

'Beast!' I shrieked. 'Deed of darkened thorn. Exact my soul, curse me unborn.
Weaving fate renounced my Hannah, forsake me from this nightmare,
foul threshold, abyss of satire, acid of the blood-soaked mire.
Choke me to my mortal pyre!' My heart bleeds out this sure prayer.
Still pure silence answer. With pain my dream is heeded nowhere!
Black love and serpent despair ?!?

Confusion held, hopes all shattered, my achieve no longer mattered.
It hurts most when you're despised, black sheep and no-one wants to care.
Now witness I the wax and wane, the falling of the falling rain,
the calling to of all insane, foundation of the unfair
archaic theme of worldly justice. Tender just a silent prayer
this will be my last despair.

Mark Snellgrove
September 1996