Dead As A Nail

I feel I am dead, as dead as a nail,

All hammered and coffin

All bent and rust.

Buried back down deep beneath the cold

And frozen black dust.

 

And yet I still breathe, a tired man’s breath,

Albeit a sigh, a solemn draw,

While I hammer at the window

While I wrap at the door,

My mind has locked me out.

 

Or maybe I am locked in, I am not sure,

Either way I am standing here once more,

Standing on the wrong side of this bastard bolted door.

I am searching for the right key

But the bunch is far too big.

 

So as it is, back to the shadow I have returned,

Where no warm does glow, no hope does burn.

Back to the bottom of hells staircase,

Locked behind the door and staring at my once stood place,

All dead and nail inside.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

6 thoughts on “Dead As A Nail

  1. Though it’s dark, and I feel sorry for the story in it, you have a gift with words for sure. And somehow something so dark has hope in it, because the person writing it has light in his spirit. I can relate to you…some of the better things I’ve written have come from a dark place too. But then, the opposite can be said too. It seems to be the two extremes, both joy and pain that beautiful things come to life.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Then you find a tool box.
    A screwdriver comes to rescue
    I open up the hinges one two three four
    I am free to go.
    Lock remains and door is hanging
    I know .. I can not use it anymore
    That gives me a bit more freedom
    Never shall I return to this misery
    For sure😊😊😊

    Liked by 1 person

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