Self Portrait

I walked into the room of self-examination
And looked into the mirror amidst the walls.
I gaze into the reflective glass
To see what truth in its halls,
But the truth I am told
Is not the truth I wrote.

I am frozen in horror at the sight of his face
This countenance I now gaze upon,
Like a black hole in the open of space
He devours all the light around this place.
A sly grin tears his lower face
A grin that cuts deep within my chest
Throwing my body into a frenzied fit of detest.

I want to look away
Turn and run away,
But his silent grimace
It won’t let me move.
It only draws me, lures me
To look deeper, search deeper
Into the caves in his head
Into the dark caverns that are his mind.

If the eyes truly are the windows to the soul,
Then he,

I have no soul!




He reaches from behind the glass
To grab and plunge me inside,
To share this truth he bears with pride.

I stand motionless
To be consumed by the darkness.
I do not resist
To be clenched by his fist
I give myself,
To him, this other self.

Slow is my descend
To the bottom of this phantom
Slow is my stride
As I shuffle forth
In this place without a light.
I find I stand
In the palm of a desolate wasteland,
An endless desert
With darkness for its sand.

I look up high
To see no sky
No life-giving, life-inspiring light,
Only fury and the night.
Where once the light
Had shone so bright
Now resides a storm
That rages with boundless might.

The clouds are filled with my fears and doubts
The thunder is fueled
By my screams and shouts.
The storm is a manifestation
Brewed by my very yin.

This truth is too much
For my shoulders to bear
By grief and despair
I am infected,
This deadly virus
Pillaging through my veins
Pulls me down.
Like a wounded stallion
Jerked by the reins,
This mighty temple
That once stood high and tall
Crumbles to its knees,
As though long destined to fall.

This is the realm
Of His soul,
Once the abode
Of my soul.



In Hades Found

The storm swirls, collects
And begins its descent
To devour my ruins
Like that most fearsome serpent.
The might of its darkness
Weighs heavily on my fallen state
A burden beyond my means to take.
Upon me is the full wrath of this storm thrust
And I by the dark am wholly consumed.

I see nothing, I smell nothing
I hear nothing, I feel nothing.
All that is,
Is the dark and the cold
Nothing more are my senses told.

This storm it carries me
Down the grave pit of night
Leading me farther
Beyond reach of the Light.
As I drift away
Past time and space
In the mirror of my mind
I can still see His face.
I can still look into His eye
And all that there is,
Is the dark and the cold
Nothing more
That is His story told.

The storm drops me
In the heart of darkness
And in the distance I can see
Where lies the real me.

My true soul
Now a broken shadow if its former glory
Lies lifeless at the heart of this abyss.
I call out to this self
But the darkness chokes my cries.
I battle from up on my knees
Still heavy on my shoulders
My burden bravely stands.
I shuffle forward to try and lend me a hand
But the closer I lean,
The further He escapes from me.

I scream franticly towards Him
He struggles to lift His eyes to meet mine
His muscles grown feeble with time.
With strength of will alone He lifts His face
And catches me in His haunting gaze.
His face bears the signs of His pain
His body wet with violent rain
But the look in His eye
Says “I cannot die!”

Suddenly from the void
Flames erupt and engulf
Melting flesh from the cling of bone.
In agony He cries
His voice swollen and low
This voice that lost its vigor and strength
So long ago.

As this ghastly scene
Etches itself into the back of my mind
I finally realize
Where it is my soul I did find.
This is Hades
The realm of below,
Where condemned souls
For all Eternity go.

Now have I seen
Where the path of my ways
Shall me lead
When comes the end of days.
Fear and truth
Bind me in their constraints
As I look in horror
At my tormented face.

And all that there is…
Is pain and cold.
Nothing more
That is the truth I am told.




My sub-conscious state is thrust back
Into this plain
As I gasp for air,
Choked by this nightmare.

I sit up from my sweat-drenched sheets
To meditate on what I had just seen,
Was it all but just a dream!?
But how real this dream did seem!
In my ears still it echoes
The thunder of shouts and screams.
In my nostrils still it stings
The scent of melting flesh
As upon it the Hades flame
Its anthem of torment sings.
In my eyes still I see
That truth that lies within me.

In this still of night
Quickly I switch on the light
That it may soothe my savage fright.
I walk to the window
Sit and stare through the glass.
It somewhat eases my fleeing heart
To see the world still beats as it should,
“I’m awake, it was just a nightmare. That’s all, just a bad dream!”
I watch the night through the sky pass
And all that there is
Is the dark and the cold
Nothing more do my eyes behold
Nothing more to be wrote . . .




Staring into the wind
Into a trance I fade.
I wonder through the doors of my mind
Take a stroll through the halls of my soul,
Seeking, searching…

“Was it all but just a dream!?”
The question echoes even in my trance.
Is this what Poe meant,
Was he as lost as I,
When he wrote the words
“Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?”

My head turns towards the bed
The pillow still holds my mould
But its invitation I reject.
I glimpse and behold,
Still fresh and clean
Beside where I lay my head
Is that Bible
That for so long has not been read.
Is that what I am meant to understand!?
Is this what I have been failing to see…?

Atop this mountain of my fears and failures
I see it,
A cross hung high.
Upon it His bleeding, beaten and bruised body
Is left out to dry.
His expression says He bears the world’s pain
His wretched form bears the world’s shame
But his eyes bear no fear or regret.
As He surrenders His last breath
He whispers to me,
“I have loved you with all I am, with all I have.
I will die that you may live…
Dawn sprouts from the horizon
Watered by a heavenly shower.
Like the rain running down the glass pane
Tears trickle down this face
And with each drop that falls
So does the fear, the shame, and the pain.
That was not a dream!

I get up and move to the mirror
After a deep breath
I stare at the face staring back at me,
To see what truth he will tell.
No more sinister smile
Tears flow from his eyes,
He does not smile.
This is me
No other is behind the glass



This is one of those pieces that has haunted me forever… From when I first put together the chapters; a time when that was all I could do to make sense of what I was going through; to right now years later as I claim to have it all under control…

It is funny how this piece still describes my growth cycle so well: –

Overthinking/Overanalysising ->> Doubting, Hating, Resenting ->> Admitting, Acknowledging ->> Reconsciling, Accepting ->> Evolving

Guess it affirms that I am still me despite all the transfiguration… Still me but BETTER!