The Haunted Chamber
Your heart has its haunted chamber,
Where the silent treatment falls,
On the floor are stalking footsteps,
Malicious whispers along the walls.
Though your perfect love is manifold,
This chamber will still persist,
Its lingering hurt and sadness,
Is decreed to always exist.
No matter how you shine and smile,
‘Tis a place of frigid cold,
That now no love, no joy, no care
Can relinquish its endless hold.
Your heart these times is haunted,
By phantoms of our past,
So insidious is the infection
It seems it will always last.
A form sits by your window,
Always in your corner eye,
Waiting and watching all night long
Yet never answering why.
I sit there in the moonlight,
Hatred etched across my face,
And point a blaming finger,
To avoid my own disgrace.
I haunt your heart and memory,
My poison flows yet still,
To remind you of your treachery,
And to scold you for causing me ill.
Each lonely darkened midnight,
You will hear my accusing wail,
The bitter and twisted arguments,
Still remain beyond the pale.
This phantom’s baleful glare,
Seems to absorb and drain your will,
The remembering of torment,
Places in your heart sick chill.
My haunting clouds your remembrance,
All else becomes thin air,
The shadows form and twist now,
So you always see me there.
The knock upon your window pane,
Wrenches your thought from me,
A relentless drumming announcement,
From the gloomy darkened tree.
There stands our oak, rain-slicked, boughs bent,
A place that was sanctuary,
We climbed it often together,
To imagine being free.
Yet now near lifeless monument,
It serves only to torment,
The greying bark and sorest wounds,
Form the night’s empty lament.
I know you look there still each night,
I know you see me there,
The haunting of your aching heart
Ne’er relieved by earnest prayer.
Your chained and weighted pensive guilt,
Is naught to my own hell,
But yours is bound in silence,
Since you can never tell.
Beneath the oaken branches,
Is the grave of that little child,
Who fell from grace so violently,
And never wept nor smiled.
So your heart remains an empty chamber,
Where my hatred will reside,
And evermore I will punish you,
For what you have always denied.
What once shone bright and golden,
Is dulled and tarnished deep,
And the memory of your failings,
Will steal away your sleep.
I blamed her then so I blame you now,
It all must wither and turn bad,
Since I have no hope but to see you
As the parent I never had.
27 thoughts on “The Haunted Chamber”
Vent Your Spleen! (Please see the Rules in Formal Info)
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The end is not yet here, we know. But the future is foretold. Those elected to not fall, will not. It’s determined `fore time of old. The weighing scale will be brought forth. And as quiet as it’s kept: The Question will be asked and Bold: did you hurt more than you helped?
HG ? Who did you climb trees with I remember reading about one .
HG, This is so hauntingly beautiful and illuminating. Your exquisite verse helped me have an epiphany regarding my N parent. Thank you so much for your masterful works. I only wish it were possible to heal such devastating scars so that the haunted chambers could be filled with light and love instead.
Thank you.
FYC
If only the love and gratitude we all have for HG would be enough to fill that chamber with light and love, it would never be haunted again.
Indeed, FM1T.
Speechless
My understanding is that you discourage revenge or bringing about our own sense of “justice”, and that is because we are flawed with ET, but because a GEN is not, it could be considered a noble, allowable action, correct?
Hello NN, if you mean am I allowed to effect justice and you are not, the answer is yes, because I am completely different to you and other empaths which means I both have the ability to achieve revenge effectively and to do so without consequence.
Thank you HG. Yes that is what I was getting at, the ability and know-how to pull something off like this due to your non existent ET. I imagine there is a lot more involved however. The atributes of deceit, secrecy and manipulations also work in your advantage and to our detriment.
Is it silly of me to suggest that we take someone on like you, as our helper to facilitate that justice? There are countless cases of Ns in power that have helped other Es to succeed. I am not suggesting it is the ideal route and I wasn’t talking about the blog, either (thought I would clear that up 😉).
Define justice.
Is this a trick question? Or is it an answer to my question, perhaps?
Justice; I would probably define justice as stopping someone from carrying out acts of harm to another individual (or those facilitating another to create harmful behavior).
Thank you for clarifying. Noble as this may be, it contravened the First Golden Rule of Freedom.
You are funny!! Thanks for the laugh.
Hg, I am still having difficulty accepting and understanding, please bare with me?
1) Justice should be undertaken by the N
2) Empaths should not engage with an N
3) the only people that can effectively bring about justice due to their ability and lack of ET is an N
4) one of the traits of an E is that of wanting justice but that is ET on their behalf – revenge is a narcissistic trait
5) Es should not contravene the first golden rule
6) Justice prevails when N (who can use their deciet, manipulations, control and sense of power) to gain the upper hand and not yield any consequences.
And around and around we go….?
1. Yes, but not on your behalf.
Stop.
Only if it were another N. If the perpetrator was a E, eat your heart out.
This stirred memories of when I first read this and the first time I heard your recording of it…..so long ago. Your words are beautiful and captivating……
https://youtu.be/EGl0xtqkTF0
Dear Lord, this is such a beautiful poem ! The long lost maternal love ( of the lack of love ) the sadness and the pain. It is grim, melancholic, but it is such a depth, straight from the heart poem!
Indeed H.G., how about publishing a book with your poems? And the other novels – like the “Asylum of the Grotesque “?
It is in hand.
Thank you , you are so talented.
Love this!
Thank you.
Me too. Do you have “Presence” in written form and will you post please? It’s terrifyingly familiar but I love it.
Eye of the Higher Self –
He was looking at the door
Old door with flaky paint
In beige, neutral
Then I realized that it was the color of my skin
Door and door handle seen through a circle
This is how one eye looks
After opening yourself
Behind the door to myself
I appeared to myself
Previously hidden
Sometimes the latter would sit in the corner, howl, lose her mind, lose her feeling
I always separated from her
I left her
wandering alone in the spirit world
Painful.
That was incredible! I was wondering if you wrote poetry also. You are so gifted.