An Icy Fog (poem)

The cold creeps in during the night.

Day by day it takes over.

An icy fog fills the valley;

winter's fingers loom over the residents.

The nights grow long

as summer flees in fear,

taking the green leaves with her,

and the gentle hums of the night.

And I, sitting in this cold silence,

find myself at home

wandering the empty streets,

the friends of quiet contemplation.

-Zero

She sat like a Lily (poem)

She sat like a lily who,

in the shadow of a summer storm,

is bent towards the ground,

and drops of rain fall from her head.

The darkness forces her to close up,

to shut her petals in wait

for when the sun's rays come

through the distant forested hills.

When dawn finally arrives,

the warmth of the sun will draw her out,

dry the rain left on her,

and tempt her petals to open.

-Zero

This can't be the End (poem)

Is this what it is to die?

The slightest movement is agony,

I can't stomach food or water,

and sleep won't come.

Oblivion is so welcoming.

There, I can rest,

there, I can be free forever,

free from my body's weakness.

This can't be the end.

There's too much left undone.

No, not yet,

I'm too young to go.

Oblivion is terrifying,

an abyss filled with nothing,

where the souls of the lost wander,

trapped in eternal despair.

This is just a nightmare,

but I can't wake up.

-Zero

Don't be Afraid of the Dark (poem)

I wish my monsters were under my bed,

or would bang on my door in the night,

that my life were a game of hide and seek,

and being found meant certain death.

But I'm not so lucky.

I see my monsters in the mirror,

pretending to behave

as they whisper lies in my ear

and cause my reflection to smile.

They're in my head.

Day or night, they're there,

in the faces of strangers,

in the whispers I try to drown with screaming,

in the haunting blankness of the page.

They're inescapable.

-Zero

Exhaustion (poem)

So tired.

Always tired.

The final ember

in a firepit filling with water,

drowning.

Gasping for air

only to find steam and smoke.

-Zero

The Remnants of Darkness (poem)

I feel them lurking,

just below the bright exterior,

the remnants of darkness.

Their fury burns with black fire,

their watery depths surge down below,

their howls echo on the winds.

They're a decomposing corpse

I have tea with every day,

their maggots acting as sweetener.

I hold onto them,

as a reminder

of how things once were.

But these remnants of darkness

try to lure me back,

they tempt me.

“Maggots taste wonderful,”

they say,

“it would be so easy...”

-Zero