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Jason McBride's avatar

This is another fantastic poem, John! Touches on our near-universal fear and gives us space to feel the dread.

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John Coon's avatar

Thank you, Jason. 😊

I think losing your mind through age, disease, or mental illness and not being able to do anything to stop it from happening would be one of the most frightening things to experience.

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M. O’Ann's avatar

I would have never thought of that. The trope of looking inside the mind of someone on the cusp of losing their identity, mind, or due to an illness didn’t click that its written in relation to that.

Now that I think of it, lots of TV shows and comics do this too.

I think its nice to think of that aspect, because we forget that this world has stories with these tropes. Without them, we get no growth in terms of characters. Not saying we need them but unfortunately they are something that is the unfortunate result of life.

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John Coon's avatar

You're spot on about these tropes being catalysts for character growth in stories (and in real life too.) I had grandparents who deteriorated with dementia late in life and my mom lost her motor skills toward the end of her battle with terminal cancer. Those moments are definitely the times that try a person's soul.

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Jeff Kinnard's avatar

Man, my grandfather has Alzheimer's currently and is deep into it. Sometimes I listen to Everywhere at the End of Time by The Caretaker just to see what it must feel like for him. It does such a good job at representing the different stages of these awful diseases. Your poem gave me the same feeling I get when I listen to that.

By the way, this fits nicely within the dark fiction genre, so feel free to share this on the latest Macabre Monday post where everyone's been sharing their work. I'm sure many would love this.

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John Coon's avatar

I'm sorry to hear about your grandfather. My maternal grandparents both suffered from dementia late in life. My mom also lost her motor skills and ability to speak coherently in the final days of her battle with terminal blood and bone cancer. This poem kind of draws on the fears and frustrations I know they felt as their minds and bodies slipped away.

I'll go put a link up on yesterday's Macabre Monday post. Thanks for the suggestion. :)

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Jeff Kinnard's avatar

Wow, I am really sorry to hear that. In a way you are honoring their memory with this poem since you drew inspiration from their experience. It was beautifully and thoughtfully well done.

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John Coon's avatar

Thank you. 🙂

My mom continues to be an inspiration in my writing. She was my no. 1 fan when she was alive. Read all the stories I wrote back in college.

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The Chronicler's avatar

This is one of my worst nightmares, it’s such a scary and sad thing

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John Coon's avatar

To have your mind deteriorate and not be able to stop it, would be the very definition of horror for me.

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JC's avatar

**Wasteland Desert**

In the desert's scorched embrace,

Where shadows dance and sand dunes race,

A wasteland lies, devoid of life,

A testament to human strife.

Once a place of verdant bloom,

Now a barren, scorched tomb.

The sky a hazy, crimson shroud,

The ground a parched and lifeless shroud.

Whispers echo on the breeze,

Of ancient secrets, dark decrees.

Of civilizations lost to time,

Of their hubris, their heinous crime.

They sought to bend the world to their will,

But nature's wrath, they could not still.

And so the desert claimed its due,

A barren grave for all we knew.

But something stirs in the shifting sand,

A presence both malevolent and grand.

A whisper on the wind's caress,

A promise of a dark distress.

For in this wasteland, where dreams go to die,

A new order is born, beneath the fiery sky.

A creature of the dust and ash,

A harbinger of impending clash.

Beware, dear traveler, who treads this path,

For in the desert's embrace, there is no aftermath.

Only darkness and despair,

And the creature that dwells there.

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