Personal Hell

Standing lost within a crowd,
to a deserted shore,
Mind and thoughts drifting,
carried upon a winters tide,
peering into the swirl,
sighting the gates of hell,

in solitude, without shadows
or a guiding hand, despairing in a
no mans land, marooned
to an island lingering somewhere
in his mind, pained, enraged,
un-slain, but held within
a twilight space,
Filled with empty thoughts
Chilled by the cold damp air,

His heart churns,
With emotionless concerns,
Traipsing the corridors locked within
A spiralling subconscious mind,
Obscured only,
By a blind thoughtless vision,

Miles apart and heavy in heart
Friends lie scattered,
While Families are shattered,
Lost in a son, their thoughts are spun
Yet no one has won the battles denied
as frustrations of purgatory taunt
the very soul of this man,