A day’s filth is more appealing
Than the polished rot that is
My skin, scarred and bled.
The devils will not seep out
As the light dims from my eyes,
Stale and distressed.
Each day my mind weaves a shroud
And each night it is unraveled
For despite the words I speak
They are lies to delay my duty.
So often it feels as though
It is forbidden to grow
Not by the authority of a Mother
But a self-imposed imprisonment.
As time passes
It is beyond me to recall
On what day, at what time
What moment did I consume those cursed seeds?
Was I freed from the shackles of that cave wall
Only to wander, invisible?
Unknowingly, a ring slipped on my finger
By those devilish, dancing shadows.
The Furies have descended
My mind slips unimpeded
Like the cursed stone of Sisyphus.
Madness and Rage
Are released like long dormant titans
Imprisoned by Olympian bolts.
What exists in me
I do not see in this World
And, so, I’ve been told
I act with reserve
Speak with flamboyance
This mask I wear
A miracle, of grand design
So They try
By their hands or mine
To show my face
But we fail everytime
This guise of mine
A sword kept in stone
Where is she
My once and future king
To pull me, to rule me
And build a golden castle
Upon this foundation I have laid
Fear will be my legacy
For my memory will last longest
With those I was intimate
Without fail, every time
They turned to glance elsewhere.
Truly, it is over
My cheeks are dry
But the taste of salt
Will not leave my mouth
My heart no longer races
Even when you are so close
But there is no returning to
How it was
I will now endure
The slow crawl of time
No longer a drifter
But a deserter
Slogging through the mud of
A futile effort
I am the Observer
I once again took a stroll outside my Temple
To watch the destruction unfold anew
Its limestone columns tore at itself
As if compelled towards self-destruction
And believe it would make itself into
What it doesn’t appear to have ever known
Whole, I think it wants
To be smooth for priestess’ touch
Should it ever receive such a blessing
I returned into my Temple shortly
Standing silent, I saw loss in form
Fell, and wept
Have you ever seen stone bleed?
It’s quite a sight
That I, the Observer, shall never share