The long roads ahead fester
Up to my door at night with
A vengeance that wreaks havoc
On my spirit.
Night winds sing their songs
Of redemption for earthly dowers
Belonging to kings who fought
Blind battles to their early graves.
I call out to the singers of scorn
To help me relinquish embattlement
Scarring my heart and mind with
Wars of my past.
I’m talking about disease of the spirit
When it is crushed by voices who speak
Sharp words, pouring them into my core,
And pouncing upon my heart with the
Fear their needles inject.
I’m captured by the moon’s essence,
And the way it sees all for who they
Can a mantle be risen to when all my anguish
Boils over into my blood, causing my charred
Flesh to scream in agony, after the tyrant’s
Rampage has finished me off?
How will my fetes rise from the ashes
When I only know how to run into the
Darkness, further burying my sorrows
In the bitter herbs I consume?
Will your helter continue to burn
Me, once I relinquish my soul to
Why do you enrapture me with you
Words of steel?
Why do you make the fire so appealing?
Could the reasoning be I never knew any
Other way of living other than through
The flames you create upon my head?
Only time can wither away the core
Of your diseased souls that sets
My being to flames.
I step upon your wings, you
Gargoyle, and break down
Your channels that taunt me.
You are now only a shadow
Of who you used to be,
Because I have overcome the
Power your mind had over me.
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2015