Morbidium

[Note to the general audience - The images that I have posted are not my own works. These have just been randomly selected to suit my poems. The photographer, Christine von Diepenbroek should be noted for this picture.]



Hey mister, my joints are hurting; I know I am getting old
Would you sit down a while with me? I hope I’m not being bold
I know I am aged and I know that you are young
I know my time is running out; the breath is limited in my lungs
Forgive me for taking away so much of your precious time
I wish to talk with someone; someone in their prime.
Let me tell you a story; a story of a time long gone
A story that will grieve you greatly; a sad story I must warn.

I had myself a daughter; a daughter had I
Blessed was she with the gift of the hidden third eye
She saw into the future; she saw into the past
But her own future she could never forecast
One cold stormy evening, she returned home
Her clothes were all soaked in blood and at her mouth foam
“Dear Father I know not how
But I am covered in blood and there is spittle in my mouth!
I was coming home from the marketplace
Humming a song and minding my own business
When out of the blue
I saw an apparition of you!”

Startled and frightened, I hastened to her side
Trying to calm my beloved daughter, for she looked a bloody fright!
But refusing to accept my soothing hand; she tossed it aside
And in a fit of frenzied desperation, she put up a fight!

“Dear Daughter! Dear Daughter! What has gotten into you?
I fear for your health, do you think it could be the flu?
But what is all this blood and what is all this foam?
Have you been bitten by a rabid cur on the way back home?”

“Dear Father, listen to what I have to say
I fear my time is nearing its end so I beg you, I pray!
I saw an apparition of you today
And it was standing right there in my way
It opened its mouth as if to speak
But into its eyes I managed to peek.
The sorrow, the depth, the isolation, the grief!
The iris’ that were the colour of a burning leaf.
It looked into my eyes for a minute
And smiled a smile to scare any spirit
And in a tone that turned me to stone
It told me that I would die today alone!”

And try as I may to calm my little daughter
I could not soothe her nerves; I’m afraid I was a bad father
And so to rid her of her delusions
I mixed a pinch or two of sedative in her meal; in tiny portions
And sent her off into deep slumber
So I could sit in the den just to ponder.

In the morning, at the crack of dawn
I woke to find my daughter gone
I searched and I searched but to no avail
Life without my daughter; it seems so pale!

A fortnight went by with no news of her
And then one Sunday morning I was woken by my neighbour
He said he had some news of my daughter
They found her body drowned deep in water
I wept and I wept but what’s the use of having tears?
They couldn’t in any way bring her near!
My life from that moment was lonely and still
And as the years passed I took to the pill.

Then one stormy august night
I woke up in a sweaty fright
I saw myself standing with my daughter
I saw myself holding her head under the water
I saw her gasping and begging for mercy
I saw above all my eyes gleaming with glee and fury

I told myself that ‘twas just a dream
But somehow I knew there was more to it than what it seems
Alas dear friend! I tried hard to look into the matter
To find out if it was I who murdered my daughter
And as the days passed by the dreams became more frequent and absurd
And from that day on my sanity was punctured

I visited a doctor, I visited two
They said there was nothing that they could do
My heart it seems was gripped by depression
And in turn ‘twas contracting my mind with these delusions
They said that it was but a natural outcome
Of a father grieving for his daughter long gone
They said that I had taken the guilt upon myself
For not dealing with my daughter; for not giving her more help

For a while I listened to what they had to say
But as the dreams became more absurd with the passing of the day
I found myself not willing to eat or to sleep
I found myself getting more immersed in a trance so deep
That at times I knew not where I was or where I’m going to be
You know not how bad it feels to be me.

No doctors could help me; no therapy could ease my mind
Not a single reasonable solution to this problem I could find
My life deteriorated rapidly, going from bad to worse
Living this life now seems like a curse
And then a day came when I got up at night
I saw another vision to give me a bigger fright
I saw myself walking alone on a road
And with my right hand I dragged a heavy load
And in my left hand, there gleamed a bloody knife
With droplets of blood dripping; I now know I had killed my wife

I got up with a start, shaking from head to toe
These dreams I could not disclose to anyone; neither friend nor foe
I now realize that those dreams were connected
They formed a part of me that was left untouched and uninterrupted
Flashbacks of my life came racing back to me
Of times when I saw my mother being beaten up by my daddy
Of all the times when it seemed to me
Like my life had paused and erased a part of my memory
Of not knowing what I did or where I was an hour back
Of knowing that there was a part of me that the others had and that I lacked

Crying and weeping I ran into the night
All those images of the murders I had to fight
I had killed my daughter; I had killed my wife
How helpless they must have been, they didn’t deserve that kind of life
And to the river I ran to drown myself in the cold water
But when I reached the banks; my energy sapped, I began to totter
And like a mad man I spoke to myself that night
“You don’t deserve to die
You deserve to live and you deserve to suffer
You deserve to drown in your guilt you cold blooded murderer!”

And so in the black of the night did I surrender
I gave myself up to the nearest police officer
But in a fit of hysteria he sent me away
Thinking me to be a mad man with too much to drink today
“Multiple personality disorder!” laughingly said he
“I think my wife has it, there’s always a change in her personality!”
And with that I was dismissed
What good did it do me to have confessed?

And with that I stomped dejectedly back home
Waiting for all the deaths and the murders that were yet to come
I killed my wife; I killed my daughter
Do you think I would stop to kill another?
I know I am laughing, I know you are scared
But sit with me awhile mister and the whole truth shall be bared…

[At the Greenhorn Mental Asylum, the faint sounds of the ambulance could be heard wafting on the wind. The birds chirped, the butterflies fluttered, the patients muttered and everything was peaceful again. Another visitor was murdered, another life stamped out. But no one really cares at Greenhorn. Life must go on.]