The Haunting By A.E. Fonner

The Haunting

By A.E. Fonner

Cocooned within the nest, I slumber; hours pass, time counts down the number.

In peace repose, I dream’ly wonder of the one whom I adore;

The one of whom I most adore;

Whose love I cherish most, assured.

Secure within unconscious sphere, and free from torments that I fear;

In tranquil dream, my hope lies near where I find refuge from the storm;

Oh, blessed refuge from the storm;

In refuge where I’m safe and warm.

Alas, the dawn creeps in unspoken; kayoed state to soon be broken.

Away, the fog of slumber’s shaken; senses soon to be awakened;

Senses from deep slumber shaken;

Soon to leave my restful haven.

Arousing, then, to silence eerie; cheer gives way to senses leery.

I wait within my sanctuary certain that it’s drawing near.

Foreboding sense, my doom is near;

These hopeless feelings that I fear.

A presence, now, I sense draws nigh; or have my thoughts, then, gone awry?

I listen closely to the air; and, peering widely in despair,

I strain to see what’s haunting me.

What specter comes to torment me?

The silence slowly then gives in as faintest whisper breaks the din,

Whose somber words in forlorn measure drip as water to the ground;

A most unsettling tortured sound

Is water dripping to the ground.

“Now listen,” said in morbid tone, as nails across a weathered bone.

“Recount the evil you have wrought, and loath the start of each day caught.

Yes, dread what’s hidden in the haze,

For numbered are your passing days.

“Consider those whom you called ‘brother’, recall your promise to your mother,

The havoc that you caused the others, the wretched trail left in your wake.

The more received, the more you take,

Each day lived out for your own sake.

“Tomorrow’s sure to spell your doom, for worries of your life consume

The flowering of a hope renewed while, feckless, from the edge you fall.

So, take your final curtain call;

The ‘morrow ushers in your fall.”

“Reprieve,” I moan in morning’s chill. “Appeal to you I surely will.

Why torment me when I awake of bygone days, for pity’s sake?

My heart has bled for each mistake;

I meant no harm, my spirit aches.

“Please trouble me no longer, then, as with each dawn you’re here again,

Reminding me of broken strands and doubts held in tomorrow’s hands.

Against approaching storms I’ll stand,

Or be engulfed in shifting sands?

“Reveal yourself! From whence you came? By whose domain do you cast blame?

My peace succumbs to scornful shades that, stealthy, steals where nowhere bade,

While I devise a veiled charade.

In all my glory, stand arrayed.”

I listen close for a reply; and strain my ear with subdued sigh

When faintest voice, much like a dream that rides along synaptic streams,

Crescendos to a lurid howl;

Then softens to a guttural growl,

A chorus most unpleasant, foul.

“A wraith who haunts cerebral paths, I know your fears; I know your wrath.

Recall your failed schemes again; your plans now dashed to bits again.

Tomorrow’s hope, illusion’s game; they really are both quite the same.

So, turn the corner; and I’ll be there to push you down that flight of stairs.”

“Away from me!” I plead once more.” Remove yourself, depart my floor.”

Like the raven perched above Poe’s door; as my soul lies bare on lonely shore,

Pronounced it surely, “Nevermore.

I’ll haunt your days forevermore.”

So every day, an anxious dawn, it beckons me with demons spawned;

And I, consigned to be a pawn, have I the faith to carry on?

Perhaps there’s hope for even me; the prospect that I’ll be set free.

Or is despair ordained to me; contented, nevermore to be?

Either way, I’ll find out. When I get there, there’ll be no doubt.