“The Lady by the Lake,” “Nihility Island,” and “Arachnid Inn”

“The Lady by the Lake,” “Nihility Island,” and “Arachnid Inn”

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The Lady By The Lake

She sways and watches the dark waters

Her lighthearted hums brings grief to the ears

Beautiful, piercing the silence of the night

Agony riveting like the pain of broken bones

     Yet allured like the moths to the dim light

 

Waist deep, one could barely tell

The pale dullness of her mildew ridden dress

       And the nothingness that lies below

 

One foot in and the anguish starts to fade away

The torment evaporating, weaning off

No turning back,

                                              the deed will be done

 

Two steps in and the release is inexplicable

The hand reaches for her, yet grasps dread and remorse in return

Seizing the humming, she turns

The sudden vacancy,

                                                       gone

 

                     Yet another to drag the lake.

Nihilty Island

Welcome to Nihilty Island

A land where everything means nothing and nothing is everything

Where the skies are so dark, but the light is ever so blinding

A place where skeletons roam, along with devils and demons–alone

But it is not because there is nothing

 

Nothing but the irrelevant prison you call a mind

A mind that’s running on martial law, annihilating everything in its wake

Leaving you helpless with the thought that you have nothing

Leaving you trapped in your cell–alone

But you are not because there is nothing

 

Nothing but dark crevices and pulsating veins running through the malleable concrete

No officers on guard, no one locked you in here but yourself

Sitting, counting the 8,397 tickmarks you made when you only got here yesterday

Sitting, fighting your self-proclaimed demons–alone

But you are not because there is nothing

 

Nothing but the rage that you forgot to take off the eye

The anxiety that caught the entire city on fire

The fire that burned, and now all your friends are dead

The fire that burned, leaving you unscathed as you hear the sickening pop of human flesh–alone

But you are not because there is nothing

 

Nothing but the rough, drowning beating of your heart

A heart that has infinite stitches that is barely holding on to a pulse

A pulse that you tried taking away so many times

A pulse that you sometimes wish were gone so you could leave–alone

But you are not because there is nothing

 

Nothing but good ole Nihility Island

A land built on ashes, blood, concrete and flatlines

A place you can call home

But you cannot because there is nothing

Arachnid Inn

You almost run straight into the quilt, the well made duvet

So fine, it’s almost invisible to your naked eye

It’s glistening and inviting in the warm sunshine

Drops of moisture decorate it from morning’s dew

Tantalizing, the grand opening has commenced

A fly buzzes past you, making a beeline like an open reservation

A little insolent as it lies down on the quilt, encumbered by its beauty and meticulity

As the hostess, dressed in all black comes to tuck it in using all eight arms and legs

She even remembered to bring extra blankets,

You have never seen a better run establishment before

As she drapes the pristine white silk blankets onto the fly

It stretches and shifts, trying to find that one spot

And before her departure, she did not forget extra pillows either

As she kisses it goodnight and the fly goes limp

Satiated, yet unoccupied, drifting off

Falling away, like the leaves, lamented

She bounds down her quilt as it bounces up and down

Spinning and tidying up, expanding her hotel as she fills her beds

So many sleeping bodies, impervious through the gusts of fall winds

Serenity of the view, overlooking the grove below

Taking in guests and tourists without discrimination

You have never seen such great customer service before

She comes and stops by you, her eyes dark and hard like obsidian

She moves about and raises her uniformed striped legs

As if asking if you have a reservation

About the Author

Christian Johnson

Christian Johnson is a medical student at the American University of Caribbean, but also a writer based in Detroit, Michigan. He received a BA in English and a BS in Human Biology from Michigan Technological University. He has previously been published with Free Spirit in their books: "Love is in the Air" (Je t'aime) and "Stories Relating to the Environment" (Extinction). He is also published with Gabby & Min Publications in their fourth issue (Songbird). His work likes to explore psychology and the human condition with the occasional touch of horror.