fictionary… 8 megapixel artist… bloody awful poet.



Days of the week,

or weekend,

the same. 

Shadows in the place of light,

morning and night. 

No noon.


Late I wake,

in the waning sun,

not set. 

With afternoon’s first cup,

must wake up. 

Too soon.


Adapting to this life,


Into halogen and pixel,

I shrink,

lacking melanin,


Cold moon.


Upon words,

a ladder to climb. 

Voices above cry out, 

join our Netherworld escape,

prison break. 

Lifeless womb.


Through endless dreams,

or not,


A solitary life of doubt,

must get out. 

In hope assume.


© Copyright 2016 William S. Friday


Single Post Navigation

3 thoughts on “Netherworld

  1. “No moon
    Too soon
    Cold moon
    Lifeless womb
    In hope assume”

    I wonder if you consciously realized what a beautiful secondary poem you had written? 😊

    Liked by 1 person

Go on, SAY IT... you know you want to.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: