A Horror Lament

Mister E. Plummets

by J.W. Arthur

My watery grave—ceaseless respite,

blessed deliv'rance from hell left behind.

The eternal sleep, an escape,

peace at long last for my unconscious mind.

Unmov'd One, spare my soul—end this torment,

under these murky depths, may my pain truly die.

Born unto this world a pariah,

a monstrous creation of life's prying eyes.

 Inspired by the works of Edgar Allan Poe and Clive Barker.

© 2024 by J.W. Arthur. All rights reserved.

Though this poem touches on a very sensitive subject, it is meant only as a looking-in view of someone's struggle. Know this: the easy way out may be a quick solution, but it's a lifetime of sorrow for those who love you. I’ve lost friends myself. I miss them so very dearly, even all these years later. I often wonder how our lives would have unfolded as we aged. The feeling of what could have been never fades, it stays with you. Society's pressures should make you stronger. Be a fighter—for yourself and your loved ones. Believe in yourself and find peace in your strengths. Your life matters. You can do this.

— J.W. Arthur