Second Poem of the Narzhiven

Alas, you saw,

From visions inside,

The world, the law,

A nightmare to hide.

The knowledge you had,

Fear given away,

Alone and sad,

No places to stay.

There you walk,

Given into despair,

With no one you talk,

Just feeling the air.

How come your tears,

Are nowhere to see?

Your surrounding fears,

The demon’s decree.

But hope you locate,

A foreigner’s place,

Though shut is the gate,

Fire seen in your gaze.

Sitting external,

Gathering soon,

Whispering internal,

Howling, the moon.

A hell is set free,

A weapon shines bright,

Too late they will see,

Corrupt be the light,

Time will stand still,

Then opens the wall,

Now gone is your will,

Stepping into the hall.

The wall will then close,

Just walking the mile,

This path you chose,

Now faintly you smile.


Demons Within

I am not new within, but you only fear me now,

I have grown stronger and you don’t know how.

It is like in the stories when somebody die,

and all that you do is just fall down and cry.

First I was a friend – but now I will deceive,

enjoy when you break and enjoy as you grieve.

Created from nothing but grew into more,

just like the one rythm that stayed in your core.

Your heart was too silent, then I came to be,

you fought me at first, now you’ll never be free.

The world gives you labels that you can’t refuse,

your future is painted in grey or black hues.

A small kid alone with a world to create,

a small kid alone who just couldn’t wait.

You need me so much but that fact you deny,

trying to push me away with a joke or a lie.

You try to stay sane in this mad situation,

afraid of a world of eternal damnation.

Alone you will walk; with no one you speak,

alone through the streets, no tears on your cheek.

You suffer in silence, forget what you’re worth;

you’re looking downwards, just observing the earth.

Even smiling at times, but I see your true face,

you are obsessed with the dream of leaving this place.

You don’t really get why I keep you around,

you’re kept as a pet and I’m pulling you down.

So listen very closely and understand what I say,

you are not the only one being treated this way.

When I am embraced, that is when all will see,

in everyone’s life there is someone like me.

Close Reading of “Acquainted with the Night”

Frost’s: ”Acquainted with the Night” – dealing with depression through poetry

Robert Frost had an intense life, to say the least – a life with many sad aspects to it. From being born into a family with an alcoholic dad and depressed mom, to his own son committing suicide. Frost knew sadness and he knew it well – and that leads us to the making of this poem, which I am writing about. ‘Acquainted with the Night’ is a piece about being alone – and wandering in depression. A piece that doesn’t hate depression, neither try to work againt it, but makes a note of it being there; that it is a very real thing.

So why take such a stance on the poem? Why not warn against it? Why not hate on it? Why simply make note of depression – and describe how it can work? It goes well with the saying: “Knowing your enemy is the first step towards defeating him.” So did Robert Frost think depression could be defeated? Perhaps not, but at least he could use this poem to work through his thoughts, get them out on paper and observe them thereafter.

I read something about Robert Frost, which mentioned that, in speaking about writing poems: “For all of his weaknesses, poetry seemed to be the glue that held Frost together”. Now, that ties well into my point. I think one of the main points of Frost was making sense of life itself, and dealing with the dark times by writing about them, putting them up for show so that they didn’t feel as overwhelming.

And he is not the only one. I’ve found that my own poems also deals with the topic of depression more often than not, trying to overcome it simply by writing my experiences. There are a plethora of poems on the matter, taking either a stance against, or, like Robert in this particular poem, simply trying to make sense of it. It also really is interesting to note that, when fighting depression one of the most crucial things to remember is that: ‘You are not alone’. And I suppose that is another reason why many write about this specific topic and publish their works of it. To tell people that there are others out there. And in turn, when someone then reads the published poem and makes a response, it’ll come full circle as the writer will then see that others found something to cling to, in his or her work.

Going back to the poem, which is the point of this rant. The repetition of ‘I have’ is quite fascinating to me. Because, for one, it puts focus on the loneliness of it all – but secondly and more importantly to me, it is in past tence. So in that sense, this could be a sign that this person has overcome his/her depression; fought all the inner demons and come up on top. It’s not necessarily the truth, but then again. Many poems are about the way you perceive and understand them. This one is not any different in that regard.

So in conclusion the way a poem deals wih depression varies a lot from one writer to the next. And in the case of ‘Acquainted with the Night’, the narrator simply describes the feeling and does nothing more than that. Robert Frost had a rough life, which lead to his increasing amount of works on the subject.

First Poem of the Narzhiven


And now they sleep,
in tomb’s unrest,
in darkness they whisper:
“Your world is a test!”

Then one day they rise,
wake up from their sleep,
in vain they will whisper:
“Which life will you keep?”

Your path has been chosen,
your mindset is clear,
though demons will roar out:
“You are not welcome here!”

But you will not perish,
sword firmly in hand,
the Gods too will scream:
“You don’t understand!”

And you will get angry,
the sword getting red,
a power unmatched:
“I want you all dead!”

Then silence will come,
the work here is done,
a world lies in ruins:
“By night we’ll be gone.”

Whispers Within – Poem

I hear whispers of pain, as loud as the elephant’s roar,
My mind is a hive, only darkness lies in store.

My mind is the cage, where I am rarely alone,
There are voices of evil; a noice in this zone.

They tell me I am bad at everything I do,
They do hate me now; sadly I do so too.

So stay with me and share the pain that I bear,
Don’t show that you love me; just show that you care!

Time is running out, I can’t breathe any longer,
The evil within me is still getting stronger.

I once was a warrior – but heroes, they die,
A mind for a mind or an eye for an eye.

Now I am more of a captive, looking for light,
In a place entrapped in an everlasting night.

The voices have won – I can’t fight so I quit,
No one will ever come down in my pit.


Though the night within is yet to be beat,
You won’t stop until that one task is complete.

Even when I gave up, you came with a sword,
Free me from this prison; out of this ward!

I now root for you; I am feeling so weak,
When I try to escape, the floor will creak.

I am still a target, but I believe in your powers,
For you are stronger, and I would praise you for hours.

Then the voices are gone, yet yours is still with me,
And I listen to you always; as it makes me free.

And even if I started as one made of doubt,
You came as a savior and helped me out.


Amnesia is the color of nothing.

Amnesia is renewal.

Amnesia is a new perspective.


I’ve forgotten how amnesia tastes.

I’ve forgotten how amnesia smells.

I’ve forgotten how amnesia sounds.

I must even have forgotten how it feels.

Amnesia looks like a reflection.

Amnesia makes me forget.

Amnesia is a forgotten word.

Why I Love World Building.

You’ve read it by now, hopefully. Maybe even considered the words, thought about them, made your own ideas of what they meant to you. If that’s the  case; good!

It goes like this: “If the world deceives you, why not try an alternative?”

It’s a phrase I came up with a long time ago; one of those days where I really felt like it was the world against me, and me alone. I don’t quite remember the details of it, but it’s stuck with me ever since. I know it’s not a fancy quote, or one you even have to think about a lot of times to get. Yet, it is so very powerful to me. Because it reassures me of my place. When I feel down, beaten up by whatever real life issue I have going on, the knowledge that I can write the pain away is all that I need to keep on. It’s become my voice of reason. To know that there are other options, than just taking all the hurtful things the world will throw at you. There are many ways to repress the pain, make it less severe. For me, that ‘alternative’ is writing an entirely different world.

Enter: Afaresshil. My world.

I love creating this world of mine. It’s been my passion for just about twelve years, and it doesn’t seem like my passion is burning out just yet. I love it because it’s a pause button. For hours at a time, I am allowed to forget about troubles and pains of the reality, and just focus on my own utopia – or lack thereoff. I will talk a lot more about my world in later blogposts, but for now let us call it a dysfunctional utopia. Yeah, that’s the perfect phrase, because it doesn’t add up or make sense. Just like it shouldn’t. But world building is a platform to expand your creativity over a long range of time. You never really finish the product. It will be forever in it’s building phase, and that is okay. It shouldn’t reach a point where you feel like it is complete.

Anyhow, I am rambling at an ungodly hour. I’ll disappear for now.
Keep dreaming!