A MIDNIGHT BEGGAR
A spoken word poetry piece by Jerone Cansino
Under these dark shadows, these winds of desolation and these ripping sound of deep lamentation.
I look above I see clouds hovering covering every every light so I could be blinded by this murderous darkness.
I shiver, I shake, to the ground I crept wounded, beaten down crippled by your words, this alienation this pain, this oppression.
Each movement, each scene, every breath, everything I see and all I could hear. This! The vehement vociferation of my soul, the scream of pain, all these ripping sensations inside, and all these tormenting voices, and those agonizing phrases.
On a normal night I would dream to dream flying with the fairies of the fairy tales. Gay as they are with their colorful wings, their butterflies and all those happiness spells. Now, what I want is that murders of ravens flap their wings around me as I ride on the back of a dragon with the flames of its destruction. We will devour a city.
I want to set my but aback of a war stallion whose color is darker than the fire of hades, Then i would fight my final battle which in every inch, all I expect is nothing but death.
The image, of a new moon, the image of the lycanthrope, the image of all the dimmest places in this planet.The image of you.
I am a beggar in this bed, I had been the stranger in this small dusky room. This all I have, this all you have left.
I would not ask you to come back, as I had not told you to leave, I will not close my door, I will have open for you since you left.
You might come back but maybe please, you might stay there but maybe please.
I would be waiting. But when I get tired of it, I will be waiting still.

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