Apology(ies)

So full of self-hatred

That when death comes to call,

I’ll punch that fucker

Square in the jaw.

Read More »

Of Winter, Death

Exhaling the fog of a winter’s morn

Contemplation sets in as the pen spills his blood

The birds of the lifeless trees ignore him

As does the quiet world which lie distant

Read More »

Into the Sun

Floating through darkness

The coldness, the emptiness

Out in space, the void consumes me

I cling to hope. My crew is gone

Abandoned unto death, I float without end

Read More »

Unanswered Question

This one's gonna get a little dark. I don't actually remember when I wrote this one, but as someone that has struggled with depression, writing has been one method of exposing my feelings in an attempt to cope with them. This is a recurring theme I've noticed in my writing through the years. I rarely read old poetry after I pen it, but to look back on some of these darker times makes me feel a little stronger knowing that I survived whatever it was that I felt was dragging me down.

A branch to be pruned before it’s in bloom

Thorns in my knees and blood tainted hands

Praying in brambles with no light of moon

Misery’s pleas outnumber the sands

A sanguine bath blurs my eyes

Why do I have to be alive?

Wings of a dove clipped just before flight

Falling in spirals of destiny’s making

Just as the arrow shot swift through the night

A nightingale silenced before it can sing

Corpse of mortality covered in flies

Why do I have to be alive?

Drowning in pools of cold memories

While warm blood is trickling down trembling limbs

Coughing, I feel my lungs start to seize

The match will not light amidst circling winds

Desperately sifting life’s sands filled with lies

Why do I have to be alive?

I call to the Heavens, entreating demise

Gathering black skies mocking my plea

Boots of my conscience having muddied through time

Endless my suffering, Death, set me free.

Why do I have to be alive?

  by Derek Herzberg

Read More »