When the sadness is gone,
Will I know how to dream?
Weep for me,
Withering to nothing in this darkness.
What will become of my bones?
Why can’t I feel myself?
Watching my life dissolve by,
Wondering why I can only fall.
When am I going to find the strength to cry?
Copyright © 2015
by Atirah Jewel
In a plagued Heaven,
Perhaps I can exist without
Constant thought of Death
Looming over my mind,
With no other reason
But to threaten my Sanity.
Alas, in this palace-like place,
I am caught even more in the web
Placed under the spell of Death’s beauteous charms.
Falling, tumbling, soaring,
Living in my own personal, tainted Heaven,
Forced to accept the sweetness
Of Death’s Mercy,
Though I weep for
Being prey to a Mercy
That should not exist,
Not like I exist
For in the weak existence
I am subjected to live.
It does not truly exist
On the Grand scale of things.
No,
Not like the existence of the Sun,
The Moon,
The Earth;
Whose own place in the realm
Of Life and Honesty
I begin so greatly to question.
Why should I believe
In a place
Where Hatred and Truth combine
And aimlessly murder the life
Once awarded to the Father,
The Son,
And the Mother,
Perhaps her more so than the rest.
Isabella, the face of Beauty,
Forgiven from her.
The face of the ocean
And the birthing force of
All that is Mighty and Holy.
Isabella, she fades,
Fades into the black eternity
That she is so cruelly betrothed to.
See her, dancing.
Feel her, falling.
All of the twists and turns
She encounters along the way
To find her inner sanctity,
Her own Heaven
Plagued heavy with Shame,
Fear and Guilt.
Once more we fall apart
From where we once lived,
From who we once knew.
Isabella is dead,
Finally, graciously.
Isabella is dead.
Copyright © 2014 by
Atirah Jewel
An emptiness grows inside of my heart.
Growing and growing,
Tearing and eating my flesh away.
Blood drips from it’s hands,
Creating a void in my entire being.
I live, I exist,
No more, no more.
I love, I sleep,
Never again, nevermore.
Copyright © 2014 by
Atirah Jewel
Should Death be so sweet,
As to come take me away,
To ring my bell, nice and proper,
I should go with this sweet Death,
With an air of exceptional sweetness myself.
And should I go,
Ever so politely,
With this Death so sweet,
I would dress in my finest garb,
And don my Tuesday hat.
I would kiss my wife goodbye for me, darling Death,
And Death would take my hand,
Sing me soft melodies,
Whilst watching the world weep on their shoulder,
And I, bid farewell to this tragic life.
But this, of course, might only happen,
Should sweet Death,
Ring at my door.
Copyright © 2014 by
Atirah Jewel
Quickly, swiftly,
The body decomposes before it’s in the ground,
The wounds that once dripped blood now seep with pus.
Deeper, lower,
The ground falls as the grave is dug,
The grass that once flourished green is now but a mound of dirt.
Heaviest, darkest,
The night sky becomes as the corpse is tossed in the ditch,
The heart that once beat proud and strong is now just a stone.
Moved, determined,
The hand the works to refill the ground becomes,
The shovel that once lay dormant is thrown back into use.
Quietly, softly,
I creep from the seed I planted,
The ground that once lay undisturbed shall now bloom with lilies.
Copyright © 2013 by
Atirah Jewel
Silence forms in beads around my neck,
Tightening it’s grip until I’m just clinging on the edge of the cliff of life,
My fingers slipping,
A slow descent down,
I am falling, drifting,
Dear Lord who art in Heaven,
Hallowed be thy name,
I beg you save my soul from damnation,
As my body be expelled to my grave,
Eternal rest laid in my arms,
The shallow grave I’m given,
Only an enemy be my company,
My murderer,
My demise,
My dearest friend,
Silence.
Copyright © 2013 by
Atirah Jewel
I hurt myself,
Just to hear the screams,
I kill myself,
Just to feel the pain,
Just to taste the blood as I drown myself in it,
Fallen to my knees in agony,
Withered up,
Dying,
All I can think to do it laugh,
Laugh, just so I can cry out more.
I’m obsessed with the idea of pain,
With the idea of death,
With darkness and decay,
The rot of flesh as it decomposes under the sun,
Unknown to any,
A woman,
Shriveled up and bleeding out until the minute of her demise,
A man,
Being the subject of torture as he begs for mercy,
Cold-blooded slaughter,
Unsuspecting victim,
It amuses me so,
Wishing I could be there with them,
Watching them wither and die,
Glimpse death as he takes their hand in his own icy grip,
Pray to be next.
Laughing forever so at these thoughts,
Fallen away to my own world,
Savouring each moment of my death,
Joining the victims of so many,
Pain was the last thing I felt.
Dreaming of happiness.
Copyright © 2013 by
Atirah Jewel
T’was such a beautiful day,
I thought unto myself,
So I decided to go for a walk,
To further appreciate the day,
For in this life I had so few,
On my walk,
I happened upon an old tree,
It’s branches had been stripped bare by the season,
Leaving it vulnerable and exposed.
The trunk had been defiled by two set of initials,
Carved deep into the bark,
The pain those imbeciles must’ve caused the tree,
My whole body quivered with anger,
I had to close my eyes to calm my nerves.
When I opened them,
I let their gaze fall elsewhere.
To the bottom of the tree,
To the roots.
The gnarled, knotted, twisted roots,
They protruded from the soil,
As is the dirt that once surrounded them had been torn away,
Leaving them to be exposed as well.
They almost looked like women,
Women who were left bare,
All piled atop one another,
They looked as if they were calling out in agony,
Desperately pleading for their lives,
Waiting for someone to help them.
If you truly listened,
You could hear their screams,
Riding on the howling wind.
How real it all seemed,
How loud they sounded in my mind,
I caught myself imagining they were real women.
Shaking the disturbing image from my mind,
I walked on.
I came across several more interesting trees,
Each having a story of its own to tell,
I saw several birds and streams,
Heard many calls of wild beasts,
But my mind kept wondering back to one place,
Those roots.
Those helpless women.
The image was disturbing, yes,
Yet I could not help but be intrigued,
My feet moved on their own,
And I sprinted back the the tree,
The fascination consumed me.
I looked on and thought,
“These women, if I cut them,
Would they bleed?
Would they cry out in pain,
Or beg for my help and mercy?”
I closed my eyes once more,
When I opened them I stumbled back in horror,
For a brief moment,
They ceased to be made of wood,
They were human, living and breathing,
Pained.
I resolved to come back later,
When everyone else was gone,
So we could be alone.
When later presented itself to me,
I gathered myself and went back,
An axe slumped over my shoulder,
A test for her,
To see if she would scream,
To see if she would fight,
To see if she would bleed.
Copyright © 2013 by
Atirah Jewel
Sweet child of mine,
You took my hand,
You took my flesh,
And now the sky refuses to smile at you.
Murderous.
You watch as the darkness falls,
The only light you will know,
But instead of tears,
You produce a smile.
Relentless.
The wounds you have caused,
Scars that will never heal,
You fly on your broken wings of withered dreams,
And sing good-bye to all the angels.
Odious.
Copyright © 2013 by
Atirah Jewel
In even your lightest hour,
Darkness consumes you,
In your brightest moment,
Shadows rule,
Even the purest of your dreams,
Are tainted with the unholy thing that is me.
When the blood clouds your eyes,
Let it fall down your body like the silk down the bed,
Let it consume you like the predator does the prey.
Is this a dream?
Am I dreaming of a world that doesn’t exist,
Where you and I could possibly be?
If so, then wake me up,
I would hate for you to be trapped in such an ugly nightmare.
Copyright © 2013 by
Atirah Jewel
Lil' Red Writing Hood 