Arrows shred the soul of dirt from years past –
Blood drips, melancholy as sweat
Not meant to be shed this life.
I stand as one amongst many, daffodils and dandelions
Cast aside at the end of last Spring,
When there was quiet and peace and joy.
Today is the day I fall to rise again:
A single muscle forlorn, cut to shreds
By the bleeding of the Mind.
The forked Tongue tastes fear –
Yours by Day and mine by Night,
When I stand alone.
The sickly burnt smell of flickering fires
Give eye to the sky.
Behold! The brave and the alive
Masquerading as one.
Just as well: no truth shall ever be known
Of how this came to pass
And how I came to be
And not to be –
In the passing of a phrase
Half thought, half spoken, half cursed,
As the moon hides in shame
And casts away the light.
Dreams rapture, joys stick to mud
As tombstones side by side
Ploughing the earth.
In time there will be Green
And water and food and colors and fetes,
And the laughter of the new.
Dreams rupture, screams gasp and die
As fireflies flitting by –
Shadows turning to light.
In time there will be Red
And wails and feuds and spilled guts and burning tires
And the silence of the end.
Till then, I breathe,
And blend in the White.
* * *